


Becoming His Inquisitor

by pannakookens04



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, First Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, More to come as story progresses - Freeform, Rescue, Romance, Slow Burn, Story divergence, Sweet, a bit - Freeform, build the inquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pannakookens04/pseuds/pannakookens04
Summary: The soon-to-be Inquisitor (unknowingly) and her soon-to-be-Commander (unknowingly) run into each before any events of the true story take place. But this brief meeting sets the course for how they will grow into the people they need to become in order to save all of Thedas. A bit of divergence from the actual story, buuuut ill try to make it work C: i want this to be a light and comical telling of the beginning of the Inquisition. please let me know what you think!*** DRAGON AGE BELONGS TO THE BLESSED BIOWARE AND NOT MY PITIFUL SELF***





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

Elora called herself every kind of fool for following this human. But her blasted curiosity had gotten the better of her yet again. She had never seen a human so close before, enough to catch his scent, it was a heady mix of lacquer, leather, sweat and something balmy, earthy like honey. it was an odd scent, and easily traced through the dense forest. Yet he had no idea of her presence haunting his every, clumsy, heavy step. Years of training to hunt, allowed her to silently stalk this foreign prey, completely undetected. He wore heavy leather armor, a desky red colour, with a few plates of complementing metal, obviously a warrior of sorts. What caught her eye the most about his gear was the long crimson cloak and thick fur pauldrin about his shoulders, it seemed to be the fur of a bear or lion. She gathered he was someone of significance in rank; she had watched soldiers, messengers all report to him or stir him from his writings, and they waited upon his word in a stiff stance. Yet he had wandered away from the main camp, from his soldiers, from his reports…

She had been watching them for a few days now, studying, tying to figure out why they were in these hallowed woods. All she could gather was that they too were hunting something. They had maps of all of the Emerald Graves. It would do them little good, the Graves were not something easily marked- unless you knew the language of the trees and the forest. She would watch him study the maps, grumble to himself and fold his hands over the hilt of his sword, strapped to his waist. He would pace and run his fingers through the back of his hair. She watched him huff and then start to walk toward the edge of his camp and into the lush, green forest. This was the first time he had wandered away from his desk, his papers and chair. A loud sigh left him as he came to a stop at a small clearing, he ran his hand through his thick golden hair again. He was clearly exasperated by his task, perhaps thought a walk in the woods would clear his mind? She found the fuzziness about his face extraordinary as he scratched at it. How odd that shem males had hair grow on their face. So barbaric. But exciting. She wondered what it felt like.... Suddenly her ear twitched and her senses, that were distracted by and focused on the shem, woke up- She could hear the heavy thud of enormous, sluggish steps. She could smell the tell-tale foul, rotting odor. She could feel the forest earth tremble beneath her hands and feet as she knelt in the hedges. There was a giant near. Her eyes scanned the scenery around them- broken tree limbs, the massive foot prints embedded in the soft grass... the giant was close... She thought for sure he would turn back, that he would see the signs as well, but to her shock he kept going in the same direction that no doubt the giant lingered. 'Fenedhis! can this foolish shem not see he is walking to his death?!' she cursed almost hissing at her frustration. She knew he would be no match for a giant all on his own, no matter how much of a warrior he was. A giant was a more than formidable foe for even a squad of soldiers. Yet he continued, even humming to himself, not a care in the world as he admired the ancient, peaceful beauty of the forest. 

Her heart quickened as she continued to follow after him, keeping closer to the shadows, pulling her further over her face. He was growing closer and closer to where she could feel the giant had come to a stop. They would stand and sway like trees at times. Giants were not always a threat, they were merely territorial, but no doubt a human would draw their terrible wrath... if only she could find a way to distract him, to lead him away... she dared snapping a few twigs. He would stop and scan the surrounding area, a hand to his sword, but inevitably press on. She could scream and throw rocks at him for how blind he was. He might as well have been a bumbling baby bear the way his just strolled into danger. She sighed and picked up a rock, thinking it was the only way- when she heard a familiar loud grunt...

Her eyes shot up to find the shem again and to her horror he had come upon the giant, standing in a small grove of young trees. Luckily the giant had his back turned. She thanked the Creators the creature hadnt noticed the shem, who paled at the sight of the behemoth. He started to slowly and quietly back away... but as fate would have it, a nug scampered through the foliage and stirred the giant from its musings... He caught scent of the shem and slowly turned its heavy, hairy head. Ellana heard the growl start in its swollen belly as it raised its primitive club, the shem had been spotted.

"Maker..." the human breathed and drew his sword, a blade of grass compared to the ogre's club. The ogre let out a throaty roar as the shem dodged in the nick of time- the club thudded in to the ground, throwing up dirt and debris. Elora started to reach for her weapon, but she was torn... why should she help this shem? It was his own foolishness that led him to his most likely death. Why should she risk her life for him? He was a despicable human, after all. She watched him dodge, evalutaing his enemy, looking for a weakness, an opening- he was clearly a seasoned warrior, the fire of fight in his eyes but also caution, study. She chewed on her lip and watched the battle continue... The shem was quick. Quick enough to dodge the ogre's lumbering, heavy attacks, but he would need more than speed to take down the brute. He swung at its massive leg, the sword struck into it like it would a tree trunk- hardly any damage done... He barely rolled out of the way in time as the ogre swiped its massive hand at him. As he rolled, his cloak was snagged on a root that was upturned from a blow of the ogre’s club- he was caught. The ogre raised his weapon in the air, the shem fumbled with the latch of his cloak-

"Fenedhis!" 

Before the ogre could swing his club again, it was encased in ice. The added, sudden weight made him drop his hand to the ground and he staggered back a bit, thrown off balance. The shem, breathless, turned to look at her- sweat trickling down his brow and his amber colored eyes wide in disbelief. She still had her staff raised, tendrils of ice magic twirling off its end... They held each other’s stare for a moment, unsure and cautionary. The ogre gave a frustrated roar and shattered the ice, it broke their concentration on each other.

"Free yourself! I'll distract him!" she hissed at the man and drew the wrath of the ogre by slamming materialized rock into his face. He stomped after her, swinging at air- she was much too fast him. She was a blur in his vision as her magic pelted him, slowly wearing him down. But it would not be enough and she would run out of mana. With a bolt of lightning she stunned him, the shem finally freed himself. "Run!" she growled as he retrieved his cloak.

"What about you? You cant hold him off by yourself" He barked back, drawing his sword and prepared to help her fight.

She was startled by this, he was concerned for her? Could he not tell she was an elf? Her distraction was costly. The giant slammed his fists into the ground before her, shaking the earth, making her lose her balance. She lost grip of her staff. Before she could correct herself the monster was upon her, raising its foot to crush her. "Creators..." her blood went cold as it started to come down. 

The shem tackled her at the last moment, hauling them both out of the way as the ogre’s foot plowed into the rich earth. They tumbled over each other and were abruptly stopped by the base of a tree- she heard his head crack against the trunk and heard him gasp. The force of him tackling her had injured her ribs as well. She had little time to assess the situation as the ogre trudged over to finish them off. Using almost all of her mana, she hurled fire into the ogre eyes, blinding him. But he would still be able to smell and hear them… She had to get them as far away as possible.

“Can you stand, shem?” she tried to haul him to his feet, he was much too heavy for her lithe frame.

“I’ll manage. We need to lose him.” He replied through gritted teeth,. He was hurt. She saw blood trickling through his wheat colored hair.

“Agreed.” She helped him to his feet and they staggered off, his arm draped over her shoulder, his weight pulling her down. The ogre roared swinging his club and swiping at the air in frustration. He staggered after their scent, clawing at the ground. Their pace was slow, he would catch up to them. She covered their tracks with an ice mine for when he came after them, at least that would help slow him down. The river was nearby, he would lose their scent. “This way!”

“No, this way! Back to camp!” he grimaced.

“I am not about to go shuffling into a shemlen camp with you bleeding! They’ll shoot me on sight!” she bit back at him.

“My men wont harm you!"

“Ha! A likely story! Couldn’t tell you how many times we Dalish have heard that one!”

“You have my word-“

“Your word means nothing to me, she-“

Distracted by their bickering, and pulling each other back and forth as they hobbled, the unlikely pair fell into a ravine.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

 

Elora laid in a shallow puddle groaning to herself as the pain throbbed in the back of her head and sides. The fall hadn’t been far, but it had been enough to knock her out. She slowly raised herself up, knowing that she would be sore in the morning. She saw the shem laying not too far from her in a thick patch of moss and accumulated muck. He was slowly rolling over as well. She could hear the giant far in the distance bellowing in frustration. They had escaped.

                “I suppose that’s one way to lose a giant…” he griped, rubbing his head. He drew his hand back to see the fresh blood on his gloves.

                “Let me take a look at that.” She offered, slowly and achingly getting to her feet.

                “I’ll have one of the healers look at it when I return to camp.”

                “You’ll lose consciousness by the time you reach your camp, fool.”

                “A risk I will have to take.” He tried to stand but buckled over. He looked back to his leg, there was a large gash running down the side of it from below the knee to mid calf.  As she neared him, she caught sight of it. She winced. It was a deep wound, mostly likely attained from the thick nails of the giant’s foot as it almost came down on her. She bit her tongue, ashamed. It had been her fault for getting distracted.

                “I-I have herbs, poultices at my camp. Its not far from the river. Closer and easier to get to than your camp anyways, now that we’re in this trench.”

                “…i…” His face had been stern, but softened, “thank you, but I must return to camp.” He struggled to get up again. She huffed and folded her arms, watching him try to hoist himself up with his badly injured leg.

                “That wound is already angry. A giants foot is crawling with filth. Any longer and infection will set in. I need to treat it. “

                “Cant… have to… get back to my…”

                “Fen’harelverna!” she could no longer stand it. With what precious, little mana she had left she used to heal some of the gash in his leg. It would take much more and some salves.  She draped his arm back over her shoulder and started leading them out of the ravine, towards the river. With her injuries he was much heavier and the moved much slower. It was still quite a ways to her camp, but much easier than climbing up the ravine with his injuries. “Are all shems this thick headed and stubborn!”

                “Only the best ones.” He faintly laughed

                “That has yet to be seen.” She sighed. Though from what she _had_ seen, perhaps he was a decent human, as decent as they could be anyway… She had heard the worst stories of them, but he seemed to be dismissing them all. He hadn’t disrespected her, hadn’t called her knife ear, hadn’t said lewd inappropriate things to her, or try to force her out of her clothes… He instead saved her life, in return for her saving his. Showing honor and pride, something she didn’t think humans even possessed. And even now he tried not to be a burden to her, he did his best to keep most of his weight from her shoulders. Her mind wandered over these thoughts and she stole a glance at him. He was pale now, his mouth tight as he grimaced from the pain- still he was captivating.

                “Is something the matter?” he asked, when he saw that she was staring at him.

                She blinked and lowered her eyes. “You have very small ears.”

                “Is that right? All my life ive heard otherwise.”

                “It’s only a little further. We’re almost there.”

                They finally crossed a shallow part of the river and came to where a great tree had fallen over- leaving a hollowed trunk over a large crater in the earth, the roots stretching out in the air. It made a perfect covering and shelter in the chilly forest nights. She had made a small camp in its enclosure.

                “There.” She pointed and helped him over some over turned roots.

                “Lovely little place you got here.” She helped him down into the hollowed out earth, the roots and trunk of the tree stretching up over their heads and completely enfolding them. She rolled out a spare bedroll she had and he made himself at home while she started a fire. “Are you out here on all on your own?” he was suddenly shocked.

                “Yes. Is that so surprising?”

                “I thought you Dalish traveled with your clans.”

                She avoided the question as she went to her pack to retrieve some bottles and wraps. “Alright lets take a look at the damage.” She plopped down beside him and pulled out a knife. He only jumped a little, never reaching for his sword however. Again he had caught her off guard. “I’m going to just cut the cloth around it, it needs to breathe.” She cut the leg of his breeches further open. Again, she winced. It looked like a painful wound, no wonder he had trouble walking. She handed him a bottle. “Here drink this down, its for pain, elfroot and some herbs.”

                “You sure this isn’t poison?” he cocked his eyebrow with a small smile. 

                “If I wanted you dead, I would have let that giant squash you a long time ago.” She started applying some ointment to the wound, he swore under his breath. “Ohyeah. This will sting. A little. A lot. Sorry.”

                “Thanks for the warning…” he hissed gritting his teeth together. She had enough time to recover some mana and set to using light ice magic mixed with healing to help soothe the angry wound.

                “Is that better?”

                “Much. Thank you…” he sighed resting his head in one hand as he leaned over. A silence fell over them- he was enjoying the cool sensation in his burning skin from her magic and she was focusing on the task at hand. She felt his eyes on her not long afterward. “…Why… did you save me?”

                “You were simply in the right place and the right time.” She lied. “Besides, being killed by a giant… horrible way to go.”  
                “Who said I was going to die?” he remarked. They locked eyes for a moment before they started laughing. They both knew he wouldn’t have lasted, no matter how much bravado he had now. “In any case, im very grateful for your help, you saved my life, im indebted to you.” There was earnest and honor in his bright amber eyes.  Something she was not expecting as well.

                “You are welcome. You saved me too. So. No debt to repay.”

                “And now here you are, healing me. Maker, what a mess ive gotten myself into…”

                “I could hardly leave you when you got this wound from my carelessness. Dalish have pride and honor too you know. And with your sense of direction you never would have made it back to your camp.”

                “I bet they’re all looking for me everywhere…” his voice grew serious again.

                “Well im sorry to inform you, you wont be making it there tonight. The sun is almost set and your wound is barely closing…” she tried to force more magic into it- but the wound was very deep. “I suggest you make yourself comfy, shem.”

                “Cullen.”

                “What?”

                “That’s uh- that’s my name. Its better than ‘shem’ or whatever it is you’ve been calling me. Anyway.”

                Elora looked up at him as she wrapped bandages around his shin and calf after she had finished applying the salves. He was running his fingers through his hair, looking at the fire instead. “Cullen, then. I suppose. Its not a terrible shemlen name.” She shrugged.

                “And, if I might ask, what is your name?”

                “Elora.” She stoked the fire and went to setting out some food from her pack.

                “Well, Elora, its nice to meet you. Seems kind of moot to say that after… you know… almost being killed together by a giant.”  
                “Killed together? I would have escaped easily, thank you.”

                It was not long after that, the draught that she gave him started to kick in. His eyes became heavy and he slowly slumped over on the bed roll near the fire. No doubt the injury and fever taking its toll on him as well. She took this time to study him further. She brushed through his hair to take a look at the wound on the side of his head, a gash, but nothing serious. She rubbed ointment in it so that it would heal. What a curious shem he was. He had been fierce to behold, at first. And she had seen how he barked orders at his troops and how they revered him. She would have never imagined him to have such a gentle, warm disposition as well. While he slept, his face was completely unguarded and relaxed- he looked more like a child than a warrior. She couldn’t help but smile at herself. She wanted to reach and touch the stubble along his jaw, but thought better of it. She couldn’t let her curiosity take her over, it always seemed to get into tricky situations. Such as the one she was in now.

                She sighed, pulled off what armor she could and drew a blanket over him. She threw logs onto the small fire. A light rain had started to fall now that the sun was down, and it was already growing chilly. She grabbed a shawl and wrapped it tightly around herself, watching the rain mist over the forest- the scent was refreshing and comforting to her. She cast a glance back at her ward, safe and soundly asleep. Yesterday she had been nestled in here by herself, wondering over her cause and situation. Now she was wondering what the human’s chin fuzz felt like. “What a strange day.” She whispered to herself, before setting wards and retiring to her own bedroll.

                “Goodnight. Shem.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are going to start getting a little longer as we pick up in to the actual game storyline C: We're getting there! Thank you so much for the kudos and comments! C: it really helps haha!

Chapter 3

Elora was the first to wake up. Her eyes flickered open. She was sore from the tumble down the ravine, but otherwise felt fine. The fire was nothing but smoldering embers, with a wave of her hand it rose to crackling flame again. The morning air was cold, and a heavy fog rolled through the forest from the light rain. She drew her shawl around her as she went to inspect her charge. He was still heavily asleep, the medicine still keeping him comfortably sedated. She took the time to check his wound. A vast improvement already, he was a fast healer. Especially under her practiced hand. They might even be able to at least get him back to his camp, it would be the best for him. She found him a curiosity, but she knew he couldnt stay for much longer- she had a mission to do after all and they had distracted her long enough. 

Still though, she could not help but admit the temptation of continuing to watch this fascinating human. After all, he had completely changed the way she thought about them. He was nothing like the stories she had been told- he was not oafish, cruel, violent, hateful and condescending... Looking back at him now, peaceful in his sleep, he seemed quite the opposite.

He finally started to stir. His hand came to his head and he slowly sat up, no doubt it was still sore. A groan left him as he moved his leg.

"Wh-where am i?" he mumbled, acting as if to reach for his sword.

"Hmm. Perhaps the medicine was a bit too strong..." 

His eyes darted over to her, at the sound of her voice. He stared at her for a moment. She could pretty much see the fog lifting from his mind as it cleared and recalled yesterday. "Elora. That's right. The giant..." he held his aching head in his hand.

"Probably still lurking around the area." She shrugged. "How does your leg feel?"

"Like a hundred soldiers took turns kicking it as hard as possible." he groaned again, sitting up completely. 

"Sounds lovely." she lightly laughed and started to prepare another round of his salves. "I already took a peek, it looks much better already. If you think you can stand to walk, we can try to get you back to your precious camp."

He watched her as she approached and knelt down beside him. "I- Thank you. Very much. I am indebted to you."

"Thats the last thing I want, a human solider indebted to me. More trouble than i need..." she carefully lifted the wrapping again and started to gently apply more salve and use her magic to cool and heal the wound further. 

Cullen silently watched her delicate movement, transfixed on the soft glow of her hands as her magic poured out. "If you dont mind me asking... why are you out here? All alone? Seems dangerous for a... young lady.. such as yourself."

"You dont think i can take care of myself?" she cocked an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at her lips.

"No! No! I meant nothing of the sort! You're quite capable, im sure..."

"Until a bumbling shem disturbs a giant..." she muttered under her breath.

"Ha, fair enough." HIs smile was distracting... He smiled with his eyes more than his mouth. She heard him mutter 'im not bumbling...' but chose to ignore it.

"If you must know, i was scouting for another group of Dalish. they have discovered some ruins that my clan is also interested in."

"Elven ruins? we havent come across any... ill be sure to be on the lookout."

"Might i also inquire why squadron of shem-soliders are beating about the Emerald Graves?"

Cullen looked down at his hands, obviously weighing if it were right to tell her. "It's... there's... well. Theres been some troubling reports of estranged soldiers, most likely former templars connected with a new form of lyrium. We received some word that there might be an operation here, or at least information as to what they are doing. We're looking for it. To try to stop it."

"New form of lyrium?"

"Yes... we dont know much about it yet. Other than that it is incredibly dangerous." 

"I havent seen anything odd in the forest. Nor other soldiers. But i have only been here a few days. I hope you find it."

"Well, i wont sitting here like a bump on a log." Cullen reached out his hand for her to help him up, a warm smile on his face. He completely trusted her. She felt odd, but she slid her small hand into his grip and helped him to his feet. He sucked in breath as he staggered up, almost falling into her.

"Are you alright?"

"I can...manage..." she could already see the color in his face draining. 

"You shems really are stubborn..." she sighed and shook her head, helping him back down on the bedroll. "You need another day of healing. You're still in no shape to travel." She watched him hunker back down, sweat already accumulating on his brow with just that little effort. She chewed her lip, her hart was wandering the area, perhaps if they could get him on him... but right now as pale and feverish as he was, even that would be too taxing for him. She wandered over to her pack again and retrieved some bread, nuts and fruit. "You'll need to eat to gain some stamina. I'll make some tea."

"Again, thank you..." Cullen breathed, a hand to his forehead, covering his eyes. He was ashamed by his weakness. "If you wouldnt have come..."

"You would have figured out you needed to run …eventually." she laughed and handed him a small dish with the food filled to the brim.

"How long were you watching me exactly?"

"Long enough to figure out you are a brave, but a bit foolish, shem." 

"What does shem mean, anyway? Should i be further offended by this name calling?" he chuckled taking a voracious bite of the grainy bread.

"Its short for shemlen, which means 'quickling.' Its an ancient elvhen term. They called humans quicklings because their lives were so short compared to the ancients..." her voice trailed off. 

Cullen noted the melancholy that fell over her, he cleared his throat "regardless, its a beautiful language."

She smiled, "ma serranas, shem."  

"maa seromas?"

She couldnt help but laugh, he had tried so hard and was so serious. "Since you'll be here for a little longer, we have plenty of time to work on your elvish."

 

***

 

The day had waned on in companionable conversation. They swapped stories and shared travel tales. Here she was, chatting and having tea with a human as if it were a natural thing to do. As if this was a daily occurrence. She found herself laughing more than she had in years. They had moved out of the hovel and sat on the fallen tree, gazing out into the peaceful forest. They watched nugs ramble through the foliage looking for food, halla graze and play, the trees sway and lull in the breeze. Though this forest was once the scene of a horrendous battle, it was shimmering green with life and vibrancy. It was the most peaceful place both had ever been and they drank it in like it would be the last. The sigh and gurgling of the river put Elora's mind at ease- she almost had forgotten why she was there. She sipped her tea, a placid smile on her face as she watched the leaves glisten emerald in the sunlight.

"You know, this is probably the longest ive ever been without giving orders, signing ledgers, reading reports.... its... nice..." Cullen lazily sighed, enjoying the peace.

“Cullen, it has barely been over a day.”

 “Im aware of that. Im serious when I say it’s the longest ive ever been. I don’t think ive had a moments peace since the war began.” His voice trailed off. A sense of duty calling to him.

“The war?” Elora questioned.

“Yes, of course. You know, the mage and templar war.”

Elora’s eyes hardened. “I know of it, yes. Though I have yet to see its repercussions. We Dalish travel so, and try to stay away from she- from human cities. I know a little of the events in Kirkwall, I have heard the stories of Hawke…”

“Kirkwall…” Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose.

“A mage rebellion breaking out, a crazed Knight Captain of the Templars, a desperate Head Enchanter… My Keeper warned me about the human templars about how evil they were- how they could put a stopper in our magic with their own disfigured form. Making us helpless against them. She said to avoid them at all cost, that they were the deadliest thing to a mage and not to be trusted.” She did not see the panic in Cullen’s eyes, he quickly righted himself. “The whole thing seems like a nightmare.”

“It was…” Cullen whispered. Just as she was about to question him further, “but we shall not dwell on it today. I much rather enjoy hearing stories of Dalish life.”

“Waking up at the crack of dawn to hunt and prepare the aravels? Hunting and fishing for hours? Packing up and moving on just when you are starting to get comfortable? Sure, they’re great stories… really uplifting.”

“Do all Dalish really think we human are such barbaric monsters?”

Elora gave him a sad smile and looked down to her tea. “Yes... growing up I was told such terrible stories about the humans.”

“Do I dare ask?”

“You know, the same old thing, that you all are heathens, and treat elves worse than street dogs. Cut down if we didn’t look at them right. That we female elves were fodder to their lustful appetites and children forced into servitude for cruel masters. Call us knife ears, rabbits… things of that nature…” she sipped her tea, Cullen’s mouth was hanging open.

“Are you serious?!” he was flabbergasted.

“Quite.”

“That is just… just horrible… Surely, you cant think that we are all like that.” He tried to reason, his face imploring.

She sipped her tea and shrugged, “I suppose you’re a somewhat decent shem.”

He had a good laugh over this and his stare returned to her face. “What of these markings? They’re lovely… if you don’t mind me saying.”

She wanted to draw her hood tighter, she had let her guard down too much around him. “They’re called vallaslin, blood writing.… when Dalish come of age we receive them. To honor our gods and walk a path in reverence to them. I bare the vallaslin of Mythal.” His eyes traced the light brown branches across her brow that curled around the outer corners of her eyes. She did not look back at him. Her looks were her greatest insecurity…

“I have always wondered why Dalish have these markings, thank you.”

She felt a little emboldened… “Why… why do humans have hair on their face.”

Cullen could not help his laugh again. “A perk of being a human I suppose. Do elves really not have beards?”

“Beards. No. They do not have the beards.”

“Well they’re not missing out, they’re sort of a hassle really. Itchy sometimes.” His hand ran over his scruffiness along his jaw. “I will be glad to get back to camp and see to this.”

“M-may I?” her curiosity finally got the better of her. She had to hide her pinking face and coy eyes.

“What?”

“May I touch… the beard…?”

Cullen chuckled, “go right ahead.”

She took off her glove and raised her hand. He was staring right at her- his face kind, gentle, warm. His eyes the same- they were such a lovely color- like a dark, rich autum honey. His hair was a bit of a mess, there were playful golden curls sticking out though he had obviously tried to smooth them down. Her eyes locked with his for a moment and then traced his strong jaw. Humans were so different… where elven men were narrow, humans were wide, where they were slim, humans were bulky, where they were lean, humans were thick, where they were elegant, humans were rugged… His jaw even- square, prominent, masculine and strong… elven men’s were long, smooth, curved. The human males were a different beast altogether- they exhumed a masculine, powerful virility. It was like comparing a smooth stone in a riverberd to a cliff face. For some reason her pulse quickened as she drew nearer to him. Her hand slowly, gently, barely brushed his jaw- she gasped and drew her hand back. He laughed.

“Not what you were expecting?”

“It’s so… so rough!”  she was amazed and went back for more. Her curiosity completely took over and she ran her fingers over the coarse stubble. “I thought it would feel like head hair… it feels like jagged bark and dried dirt…” She didn’t notice the effect she was having on him. She was, after all, essentially petting and caressing him, but this was lost on her.

He felt a warmth bloom in his cheeks and stomach as he tried not to savor the feel of her soft hands on his skin too much. “Yes well… im glad you’re enjoying this…” His eyes found an opening in her hood. “I too have always wondered what elvish ears were like.” She was too distracted by his fantastic beard that she hadn’t noticed he was reaching into her hood. She spotted his hand just in time, his fingers starting to brush against her hood. She moved to quickly dodge his touch.

She fell off the tree.

“Elora! Are you alright?” Cullen was trying to get down to help her.

Elora laid in the soft grass that luckily braced her fall. She heaved a sigh of relief. Not only would it have been bad if he had touched her ears (they are highly sensitive) but he might have made her hood come off. Which she wanted to avoid at all costs. She heard him panting as he struggled getting down. Cullen finally clamored by her side and knelt in the grass beside her.

“Im so sorry, I shocked you. I should have said-“

“Its alright. Im fine…” she waved him off and sat up. “I should have warned you that elves’ ears are very…. Sensitive…” she cleared her throat and her face turned a bright shade of pink. She slowly sat up, no harm done except for her Dalish pride- falling off a tree. She shot a glance over to him to find he was stunned and staring at her. “What is-“ she realized her hood was off and she almost screamed. She tried to hurriedly pull it back on.

“Your hair…” he breathed.

“I know…” she wanted to cry, she hated her awful hair. “It’s…”

 “It’s extraordinary.”

She looked over to him, in disbelief.

“Ive never seen hair that color before. Its lovely. Ive been wondering why you’ve kept that hood on. You needn’t hide it from me. Clearly I cannot judge” his kind eyes crinkled with a smile as he tugged at a stray curl teasing over his forehead.

She didn’t know how to respond. She was always mocked and ridiculed because of her hair… it was an abnormal color- snow white. It made her seem all the more pale, and her deep blue eyes almost black. Some of her clan said it was the mark of Fen’Harel, that she was a doomed being, that her magic was a curse. But he thought it was extraordinary. “Th-thank you.” This human continued to surprise her. She left her hood off, her long white braid trailing down her back, her bangs hanging down the sides of her face. Normally she wore the hood anyway, her hair was so noticeable when she was traveling.

“And  i- um- im sorry about the ears…” he rubbed the back of his neck, blushing. “I didn’t know they were so…”

“It’s alright, Cullen.” She smiled at him and played with her braid, trying to get used to it seeing it out.

They were both smiling at each other and a silence fell over them… Elora was starting to feel odd… “I-is your leg any better?” She broke the silence.

“I think so.” He replied flatly, looking down at the wrappings.

“Let’s change the bandages.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C: thanks again for all the comments and kudos! You guys are so wonderful and nice haha ...this chapter is a little longer! And then we are flung into the game pretty much haha C:

Chapter 4:

 

                Elora hunted down some fowl, mushrooms and other edible fodder of the forest. She didn’t realize how much humans ate. While the food in her pack cold last her a good three more days, it would probably take Cullen a day to clean out her entire supply. She wanted to make sure to build his strength before they started out in the morning. As she walked back to their little camp, her heart felt heavy. She had enjoyed this time, more than she had any other time in her life. It had been so brief. But she knew it could not last. They were both from different worlds and walked different paths. Still, they could enjoy this last night of reverie before they were thrown back into their duties. As she approached her camp she found Cullen had wandered over to the river and filled a basin. He evidently had tried to clean himself up a bit while she was gone. She saw that his face was indeed wiped down- the dirt and grime from the forest gone, and his hair was somewhat more subdued. He was sitting by the fire slowly removing his bandages again.

                “How does it look?” she asked as she went to work preparing their meal.

                “Incredible. Are you your clan’s healer?”

                “I am not the First, no.”

                “Meaning?”

                Elora wasn’t sure how to answer that. How to answer that, despite what she had told him about how elves scorned humans for their cruelty, her people could be the same way. Her eyes darkened. “Another time, maybe.”

                “Oh, were you planning on saving me from some dragons next week? Same time, same place?”

                Her dark thoughts vanished. “I think I’ll watch how it pans out next time. Im sure it will be most entertaining.”

                “And over with very quickly, im afraid.”

                “For you?”

                “For the dragon of course.”

                She laughed and shook her head. She would miss this- the laughing, the forgetting about who she was and what she had to prove. But she couldn’t let him know that… No, he had to leave. And it was best to leave him thinking she would be just fine. That she wouldn’t always cling to this time for all that she was worth.

                “Ive been meaning to ask you about that…” he cleared his throat, picking up his sword as if to examine it.

                “About dragons? Not exactly my expertise.”

                ‘No… I don’t think I know anyone who has an expertise in dragons… Well, Cassandra maybe… But anyway. If- If you think we ever would… meet again?” his voice got a little more high pitched at the end. He hoped she didn’t notice.

                She looked up from the pan she had on the fire, their dinner sizzling. She studied him in the firelight- he was a lovely human, if it was possible for humans to be lovely. From his flaxen thick hair, to his kind, earnest gaze and to his charming lopsided smirk, made even more dear with the scar that split it. She hoped she would never forget this face. He seemed to be staring at her as intently as she was him.

                She tried to keep the bittersweet smile out of her answer, “perhaps our paths will cross again. Under better circumstances.”

                “I would like that.” His smiled deepened. She hid it from him, but she knew that they would most likely never meet again.

                “Though in our line of work, better circumstances are a rarity.” She tried to make light of the situation.

                “I agree with you on that.”

                “I didn’t ask before… but does my being a mage bother you?”

                Cullen’s smile faded and a distant gleam crossed his eyes as they looked to the fire. “Elora I-“ he paused, “No. It doesn’t bother me. Im not afraid of you, or your magic.”

                “Good. Surprising. But good.” She finished cooking their meal and handed him his hefty portion.

                “Is that all your eating! No wonder you’re so tiny.” He griped with a smile.

                “We elves don’t require eating our weights worth in food at every meal. And I am not tiny. I am actually the tallest in my clan.”

                “That’s not saying much. I thought you were Dalish, not dwarven.” He snickered and she wanted to throw something at him.

                The rest of their meal they passed again in humor and tales. They dressed his wounds and she gave him another potion to drink down, it of course worked on him fast and he was soon asleep- tranquil and at peace. She wondered if that too, was something he hadn’t done in a while. When she studied him at his camp he looked haggard some days, with dark circles beneath his eyes. She hoped that he had rested enough here with her. She set ward to protect them while they slept and crawled into her bedroll. She let the fire die down just a little and looked over to him on the other side. She couldn’t help the sadness in her heart and the smile on her face.

                “Goodnight, Cullen.”

 

***

               

                “What is that?”  
                “They’re called harts.” Elora patted the flank of her impressive mount- a Pride of Arlathan hart. He dwarfed any horse, his coat was a dusky brown with white markings showing his lineage, and his great horns spanned almost the length of her body. He was an exquisite specimen of the beauty, elegance and power of a hart- and her pride and joy.

                “You said you had a horse.”

                “I said no such thing. And his name is Ivun.”

                “This thing is the size of two horses. How do you even get on it?”

                “Try it for yourself.”

                “Its enormous.”

                “Just try it for yourself.”

                “I don’t think I can swing my leg that high.”  
                “…. Get on the hart, shem.”

                Cullen grumbled over to Ivun, who was languidly grazing, paying no attention to the smelly, clumsy human. He snorted when he realized that that same human was trying to get on him. “Look at the size of those horns…” Cullen muttered under his breath, “probably impale me if he turns his head…” Elora tried not to laugh as she adjusted the saddle.

                They started out early. Cullen’s leg was much better and he was able to put some significant weight on it. It was fortunate it was on the outside of his leg, so riding Ivun wouldn’t upset the healing skin. Cullen awkwardly pulled himself onto Ivun, Elora tried not to laugh- it was like watching a child ride their first time. He finally situated himself, she had to admit he looked…decent… up on her trusted steed.

                “Well… this isn’t so bad…” Cullen nodded, he liked feeling the power already at the reins of this noble creature.

                “Harts are very intelligent, noble creatures. Ivun is especially clever and loyal.” He pressed his fuzzy nuzzle against the side of her face in affection, as she patted his massive head.

                “Does he mind me riding him?” Cullen was suddenly fearful he was offending a moose.

                “He does. He thinks you smell horribly and wants me to wash his saddle as soon as you’re off.” Cullen’s face was utterly crestfallen. “Im kidding, Cullen. Let’s get a move on. It will take the better half of the morning to get back to near your camp.”

                And so they set off. They moved at a steady, cautious pace- as they had learned it was not the best idea to blindly traverse the Graves. There could be giants lurking, or great bears. The morning air was still chilly and damp, and the fog rolled in thick clouds as they walked, providing cover but also blinding their way. It was a good thing Elora almost had the path from her camp to Cullen’s memorized, but she wouldn’t let him know that. A silence fell over them, the only sound was the soft plod of Ivun’s hooves in the damp forest floor. She walked alongside him, her staff in hand, just in case. She didn’t want to admit the heaviness she felt in her chest. But it was time for this to be over. It was time to move on. She would cherish this time, and nothing more. Cullen was a human, a human warrior at that. And she was a Dalish outcast. Her gripped tightened on her staff.

                “Do you think you and your camp will stay in the Graves for much longer?”

                Cullen sighed. “We have found little evidence as of yet. There is not much more we can do. I will know when I return to my camp and see if new orders have arrived.” He cleared his throat. “Will you come in to the camp with me? Id like the men to meet you.”

                She laughed, “and just how are you going to introduce me? ‘Hey lads, this elf saved me from a giant and then we fell into a mud hole and lived under a fallen tree for two days. We ate some berries. She fixed my leg. I rode a moose. We had a swell time.’” She did her best to imitate his accent.

                “I sound nothing like that.”

                “Yeah you’re right you’re a bit more nasaly. I suppose I could say a quick hello. Then its back to the forest for me.”

                “And you’re sure… we wont see each other…”his voice trailed off, but she could hear the optimism, the hope in it.

                She didn’t look back at him, but kept pressing ahead- now thinking the sooner she got him to camp the better. “It would be nice. But we have our duties, don’t we?” She thought it best to end on a business note, rather than personal one. It would make it easier on them both...

                “I suppose we do.”

                Their silence waned on as they made their way through the waking forest. As the morning sun rose, the fog lifted and showed the promise of another lovely day in the luscious paradise. Elora knew that they were growing close. Soon it would all be over. It would be a fond memory to cheer her in the bleak nights. A source of hope when all was lost. Some sort of promise that would give her the strength to fight. She ushered a prayer to the Creators, that if this was to be the last time she saw him, that the Dread Wolf would never catch his scent.

                She could smell the smoke, hear the rattling of metal, and clashing of swords in the distance as the trees started to clear- his camp was very close. She decided, at the last moment, that it was best that she not go. It would make it harder. And though she trusted Cullen, a whole of army of shemlen just… didn’t seem like the best idea.

                “There! Just through that clearing!” Cullen pointed through a small thicket of trees. She could see the tents, see soldiers about their day. “Wait here, I’ll give them a warning a first. Im sure they are going to be quite dramatic at my return.” He smiled, obviously excited to get back to his men, and to show her his camp.

                “Oh, wait. I wanted to give you this.” She reached and drew a small pouch from her side.

                “What is it?” Cullen gently took it from her hand, studying it. His fingers tracing over its designs.

                “I packed some of the salve and the herb mix for you. I doubt your healers will have such a luxury as old Dalish cures.”

                “Indeed they do not. Um… mas aranas….”

                “G-…..good job….” She didn’t have the heart to tell him he butchered her language. His proud smile was worth it.

                Cullen tied the pouch on to the side of his belt, giving her the last smile. She had made the small leather pouch herself and embroidered a Dalish design in its seams. She didn’t tell him what that pouch meant to her, she just wanted to give him something to remember her by. “Wait right here!” He clumsily dismounted from Ivun.

                “Sure.” She smiled sadly, it was lost on him. She would linger to watch him safely reunited… She watched him limp into the clearing and she leaned on Ivun for support.

                “Rylan!” Cullen called to one of his troops who was looking over a letter.

                “Oh there you are, Commander.”

                Cullen came to a stop. “What do you mean ‘oh there you are?’”

                “Well you’ve been hold up in your tent for so long. Its good to see you getting some fresh air. The troops were worried about you, you know.”

                Cullen was stunned, he staggered back. “You think ive been in my tent this whole time?” he questioned, dumbfounded.

                “Well naturally, Commander. You know how you get into those… moods… just keep to yourself… sometimes…”  
                “You thought I was cooped up in my tent… FOR TWO WHOLE DAYS!?” Cullen growled. The younger soldier cowered and all across the camp the troops started practicing harder, fearing they would be his next target. “I was injured by a giant in the woods, a Dalish… scout… rescued me and has been taking care of me in the forest for the past two days! And you mean to tell me that you all had no idea?!”

                The terrified soldier, weighed his words carefully. He looked at Cullen, then at his feet, then back at the Commander, then into the beautiful, peaceful woods. “……We had no idea, Commander.”

                Elora covered her laugh with her hand. He had gone on and on about how ‘worried his men must be’ and they had no idea he was even gone. She watched him fume and fuss and lecture the poor lieutenant, and then she patted Ivun… She couldn’t stay any longer…

                “Here, Ser. This came for you this morning.”

                “It can wait- I want to introduce you-“

                “Its marked urgent from Lady Penteghast. She said that the Most Holy is calling together a Conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The Lady Seeker wants you to return as soon as possible, Commander.”  
                “Fine. We will leave tomorrow, but I want to introduce the lady who-“ Cullen turned to look behind him, fully expecting Elora to be smirking at him, her hood drawn of course, arms folded haughtily over her chest- his heart stopped when he saw only the saplings stirring and the tall grass glistening in the morning light.

               

***

 

                Elora knew she shouldn’t have, but she couldn’t resist. The next morning she snuck up back to Cullen’s camp. She watched the soldiers take down their tents, pack up their supplies and ready their horses and wagons. Cullen, unfit for the long journey still, would be riding in one of the supply wagons, made comfortable for his journey back. She climbed a tree, hid herself well, and watched as he went over a list to make sure everything was accountable for before they departed. She studied his face so that she could remember it. Though now it was drawn, pale, and his eyebrows stayed knitted together- he was angry. She knew he would be. But she didn’t have a choice. Now here she was again, clinging to the last moments of being in his enchanting presence. Trying to remember every detail of his face- the amber color of his eyes, the square of his jaw, the golden tone of his hair. She would need every inch.

                She crouched down lower in the branches when she saw him look up from his scroll and into the woods. He handed the parchment to his lieutenant and gave an order. They were ready to leave. He slowly made his way back to the tree line and stood at the edge of the clearing. Almost the exact spot she saw him walk from the first time. He gazed in the forest- pale, misty in the slowly rising sun. His face, hard with anger and hurt, softened somewhat and he sighed. He ran his hand through the back of his head, a gesture she learned he did often, a habit she guessed. With one last, somber look she heard him whisper-

                “Good bye, Elora…”

                And he walked away. He pulled himself up into the wagon, and they set off, back from where they came from. She never even asked where that was. It was probably for the best... lest she follow. She hopped down from the tree at last, still staying out of sight, but wanting to run after him. Everything in her wanted to sprint after him. She held onto the tree to keep herself grounded. She had no place there beside him…

                Cullen looked back one last time, she could see the longing in his eyes even from there. He slowly turned his head back around and they faded into the morning mist. Gone forever. She finally stepped out from her hiding place. She stood in the middle of where his camp had been. The grass was all matted and flattened where their tents had stood. Her eyes found his footprints in the damp earth and followed them to the tracks of the wagon. They were all that was left of him. She smiled to herself and looked in the direction that he had gone.

                “Good bye, Cullen…”

***

 

                She finally returned to her own camp. It had been a few days since Cullen had left. She wasn’t sure how many. They ran together. She had abandoned her mission for now, she didn’t have the heart for it. She instead wandered and let her mind roam. She was now only returning because she was exhausted. She didn’t look at the empty bed roll. She didn’t have the heart to pack it up that night. She waved her hand and started a nice fire- hoping it would make her feel better. Something caught her eye. There was a note pinned to one of the roots of the tree. She recognized it immediately. A runner must have come through and left it for her. Only one of her clan knew where to find her and how to track her signs. She unrolled the letter-

                “Conclave…. At the Temple of Sacred Ashes…  Creators, where in Thedas is that…?” she couldn’t complain, it would be a much needed distraction.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! Off into game stroyline-ness! C: Also, i will have some game dialogue, but for the most part i will just sum up scenes! You all know the games backwards and forwards, im sure haha C: thank you so much for reading!

Was she too late? She had seen them come in, she had seen the horrors of countless innocents being slaughtered as they made their way through the temple. She was hurrying after them, following the trail of carnage. Bodies slain and slewed all down the cold grey hallways, their fresh in puddles and streaks all the stone walls and floors. This was a holy place to the Shems, but these monsters had desecrated it with their blood. She felt a chill on her skin, though she was pouring sweat. There was something sickeningly sinister behind all of this. She could hear a desperate voice, someone was crying out- maybe she could save at least one. She followed it to a heavy wooden door and pushed through it.

                “What’s going on here!” She barked reaching for her staff. She was not prepared for what she had stumbled upon. Indeed, nothing could have prepare her for what lay behind those blood stained doors.

                A grotesque being of odd, foreign structure- tall, whispy, but enormous and overbearing, wearing robes she thought looked ancient by their designs. From its figure jutted spires of darkness and some strange red crystal, that seemed to pulse and smoke- it had misshapen his face and parts of his body as it grew from his wretched form. After sneering in disgust at the creature, her eyes then went to the odd orb he clutched in one hand- a disturbing, sickening light with a forgotten energy oozing from it. She was appalled at his presence and ready to act- she then noticed humans were making some sort of barrier with their wills, imprisoning an old female shem donned with the robes of their beliefs. Her eyes darted back and forth as she tried to make out the situation and what she needed to do.

                “Run while you can! Warn them!” the holy human cried, bound in whatever sick magic that creature was using.

                “We have an intruder…” he said calmly, her presence obviously didn’t disturb him in the slightest. She was no threat to this power she felt emitting from him and that orb. “Slay the elf.” He easily said and pointed his long, gnarled clawed finger at her.

                Once his concentration was somewhat broken, the Most Holy smacked the odd orb from his hand. He cried out and went after it. Elora acted fast and dove to catch it, thinking she could use it against him- but once her hand touched it’s surprisingly cold, smooth surface-

 

***

 

                Darkness. Some green, eerie smoke curling around her, its hard to breathe. Whispering. Howling. Something moving in the shadows. Demons? Hundreds. Crawling out of the dark. Run. Run faster. Climb. Theyre gaining on you. At the top. Light. A beacon. There is someone.She’s reaching for you- to help. Help. There’s an opening- we have to hurry. The demons are here. Hurry. We have to-

                “Go.”

 

***

 

                Elora woke to an aching in her head, an odd sensation pulsing in her arm, coming from her hand. It itched and stung. Her hand felt asleep but also felt like it was getting too close to a fire. She then noticed the heavy, cold, thick restraint of metal against her wrists. Her eyes fluttered open. It was dark as her eyes adjusted. She gasped when she realized she was surrounded by shem soldiers, pointing their blades at her. She had been caught? But where had she been? What was going on? She pinched her eyes closed, trying to think. Trying to remember anything. Trying not to panic. But it was all gone. It was swallowed by some darkness and an eerie green light. Her hand started to burn uncontrollably, breaking her concentration. She looked down to it, maybe it had been cut-

                A vibrant green light stuttered and crackled from her hand like a bolt of weakened, but hungry lightning. She cried out as it burned and hissed before dying back down. There was a sickly emerald streak running through her palm, the source of the light. She closed her hand but felt nothing. ‘What kind of magic is this?!’ she cried to herself, her panic setting in. Whatever this was, it was consuming her, she could feel it…It was feeding off of her like a leech.  ‘What is going on?!’ she felt the tears of frustration and confusion start to burn her eyes.

                The door burst forth and two humans walked in. She tried to collect herself, she didn’t want to show any weakness. They paced around her, circling her like buzzards. At their presence, the guards dispersed to the back corners of the cell. She sized up her captors, female, they looked very intimidating. They were sizing her up too, and found her wanting. But she wouldn’t let these shems break her. She took a deep breath, prepared for the worst.

                The one who first strode in- tall, muscular with a strong jaw and even stronger gaze, her hair jet black, short and easily managed, a scar running along her jaw, her clothes, stance, build all read warrior. She stepped up to Elora and slowly unsheathed her sword, pointing it at her throat.

                “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” she hissed in her ear, “the Conclave is destroyed, everyone who attended is dead…” she could hear the break in her voice. “Except for you…” the vehemence was back in her accusation.

                It took Elora a second to remember. The Conclave. That’s right she had finally found it and watched all the people walking in. There were so many… humans and elves too, there were so many. Her throat grew dry. “All those people… dead…” she breathed in disbelief. Had she tried to save them? What had happened? How did she live?

                The human didn’t care, she snatched Elora’s hand roughly, “explain. This.” She growled and then threw her hand back down as if it disgusted her.

                Elora shook her head, in fear, in disbelief, in confusion, “I-I cant…”

                “What do you mean you cant?!” she barked

                “I don’t know what that this is! Or how it got there!” Elora cried.

                “You’re lying!” the human bit back stomping at her, and seizing her by the shoulders.

                The other human finally intervened- she was shorter, a softer build, she wore dark robes and kept a hood pulled over her hair and most of her face.  Though she seemed not as big a threat as the first, Elora could this woman was far more dangerous. She pushed the other shem back. “We need her, Cassandra.” Her voice was accented differently… She then turned back to Elora. “Do you remember how this happened? How this all began?”

                Elora scanned her broken thoughts- there were only bits and pieces, none of which made sense. “I remember… running… things were chasing me… and then… a woman?” At least, she thought it was a woman. It was suddenly so bright, she couldn’t make the figure out.

                “A woman?”

                “She reached out to me…” Elora remembered the out stretched hand, “but then…” nothing.

                “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to rift.” The dark headed one offered, scowling down at Elora. The other nodded and left them. She sighed and her countenance somewhat softened as she knelt down and, to Elora’s surprise, undid her shackles.

                Her mind was in such a blur. None of this made sense. “Wh-what did happen?”

                Cassandra again sighed and helped Elora up, she was glad for it, she realized she was weakened. “It will be easier to show her…” Cassandra lead her through the doors.

                Elora had to shield her eyes as she walked out. Something was blinding her as she stepped from the dark, dank cell. Once her eyes adjusted she almost fell backwards in shock. Up in the sky there was the same horrid green light and, much like her hand, it was scarring the sky. It stretched and twisted. It roared and oozed its light like a festering wound. It tainted the whole sky, making it a sickly grey-green. It seemed to be slowly dragging things into its abyss. It was a hole, a tear, a rift in the sky above where the Conclave had stood. And somehow… Elora had survived it… though she had no memory it.

 

***

 

                To say that Elora was having a bit of a culture shock is an understatement. Apparently the humans had already formed some kind of defense around where Breach (she learned that’s what they were calling it, aptly enough) hovered over the ruins of the Conclave. There were shem soldiers and villagers everywhere and they looked at her with either reverence, which she found odd, or hatred, which she found normal. Cassandra had let her free and allowed to carry a weapon. She was learning that the woman was harsh, but not unjust. And very practical and powerful. And she learned this by fighting demons alongside of her. She didn’t have time to think of all the firsts she was experiencing. Ever since she laid eyes on Breach, she was racing and fighting. There was hardly any time to ask questions. They came upon a dwarf and another elf that were having trouble fighting off demons- Elora staggered back, there was something like a mini-breach howling over them and the demons were coming through it like a portal. ‘It’s a tear in the Fade!’ she cried realizing the sheer horror of it all.

                “We must help them!” Cassandra readied her sword and shield and charged into the brunt of the hoard.

                Elora whipped her staff around her with practiced ease and flow. Fire and lightening, burst from her staff and palm, striking as many as she could at once. After they were defeated the rift rippled and surged. Elora was ready to fight again, though she was quickly tiring. She had been right, Cassandra confirmed, the mark on her hand was slowly draining her life- they had to figure out something fast. Suddenly-

                “Quickly! Before more come through!” The other elf grabbed her hand and jerked it towards the rift. Her hand reacted- she felt the rift pulling at it, as if it were sucking its power or drawing from it. In instinct, she fought back, and tugged- to her surprise the rift followed her and swallowed itself shut. It vanished leaving a trace of green energy where it once stood.

                She was stunned… somehow the magical wound on her hand had sealed the tear, and whats more, she was feeling strength return. The elf was going on about how the mark was a part of the Breach and that they needed to get to it in order to seal it, as the she had done the smaller one. It made enough sense, she would try anything to make this go away. Cassandra seemed put out by the dwarf shouldering an impressive crossbow. It seemed they knew each other- Elora had no clues as to how. But she could already tell this dwarf, Varric, was quite the upstart and mischievous rogue. She liked him best out of all these odd people she had met.

                “We will meet Leilana at the forward camp. Let us hurry.” Cassandra led the way of the motley crew.

                Elora just wanted a moment to herself to think, to catch up, to figure out if she was even awake. It all seemed so surreal. Her mind was spinning as she watched Leliana and Cassandra argue with a man dressed in those red robes- he seemed very self righteous and condescending, so while he was talking she tried to pieces things together. Her thoughts were interrupted when Cassandra asked her to pick the next course of action. Her. She had no idea what was going on. She had a magic green mark on her hand. That was all she knew.

                “Now you’re asking me what I think?” she huffed. She was getting tired of these pushy shems.

                “You have the mark.” Solas pointed out. She guessed that gave her some power over them- which she did not want. She would do anything to hand it over to someone else while she ran back into her beloved woods. She wanted this all to be just a dream. She wanted to wake up under the fallen tree, smell the crisp forest air, feel the chill on her skin… a familiar smile flashed in her mind. Lopsided with a scar… For a moment she felt some kind of peace from it…

                They gave her a choice: take a mountain pass to the rift, it would take longer but it was safer; Or charge with soldiers, the shortest but most dangerous way. She weighed the choices, she did not like this already. This pressure that was being forced upon her. She was never the one to make decisions, she was an outcast, she did what was told, no questions asked. She wanted to blend in, not stand out. She looked around their faces, they were waiting upon her every word… What was this?

                “I say we charge. I wont survive long enough for your trial. Whatever happens… happens now…”  she felt emboldened at having made this choice. This first choice. Cassandra approved and gave her a reassuring nod. They situated their weapons again and headed towards the battlefront. Evidently there was another rift to seal there, they had a small force trying to subdue it. It stood in the way of the Conclave and that meant it was in her way as well.

                Cassandra led them to brunt of the battle. Sure enough, there hung a rift in the sky, pouring demons out like blood from a wound. She readied her staff and jumped. She used her lightning, her favorite to stun the demons down and scatter them as they fled in fear. More seeped from the rift and they found themselves almost surrounded. She was grateful that there was at least a small force of soldiers on the field that were helping defeat the demons, or else her small party would have been overrun by them. She whirled her staff- blaze after blaze, bolt after bolt, a wall of ice to snare the demons. She felt her arms starting to grow heavy, sweat running into her eyes and her heart was careening in her chest. She had not had to fight at this ferocity ever in her life. But that was what she was fighting for- her life and for the lives of those around her. Her lungs were burning as she dodged and ran to get better shots at the waves of demons. She was glad for Solas’ help with the shields to keep them safe. Finally, they had dispatched the last one and it shuddered into ashes as it screamed.

                “Quickly! Use the mark!” Solas cried out at her.

                Somewhat nervous about using this foreign magic again, she raised her hand and felt the pull of the rift- the green light shot from her palm and into its core. She struggled as she pulled again harder than before, and within moments the rift sealed with her will. It was gone. She leaned over, catching her breath, reeling from the mana she had just spent.

                “Sealed. As before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.” Solas reassured her. Which she needed. Creators know she had no idea what she was doing.

                “Lady Cassandra, you found a way to seal the rifts. Well done.” A voice called from before her. Her ears buzzed, her pulse raced. But she was too drawn to look up just then. She was staring at her palm, watching it flicker.

                “Do not congratulate me Commander, it is the prisoner’s doing.”

                “Is it? I hope theyre right about you. We’ve lost a lot of people getting you here.” He almost made it sound like everything was her fault and it made her bristle- she was getting tired of these shems shoving her around, blaming her for something she had no idea about. Her fist clenched at the thought. She could hear him taking steps towards her.

                “You’re not the only one-“ she quipped back, looking up from her hand at last to glare at this imbecile. Her eyes locked on to the familiar bright amber gaze, angry as the last time she had seen it. The dark, coarse hair of his stubble, ragged across his square jaw. Her fingers twitched recalling the sensation of touching it. His hair as it had been the first day she saw him- brushed and styled straight and stiff into submission, with the curls all pushed back. Though you could see their remnants in the thick, golden waves. Realization came over her like a gale force. She felt her breath catch. Felt herself stumble. She wanted to fall over.

                His eyes had been accusatory, angry- but as they roamed her face, his countenance completely fell. His lips parted in so many questions, his gaze widened with disbelief, he couldn’t speak. He started to shake his head, as if it weren’t real. He searched her eyes, as if to make sure it was her, and then trailed over her long, messy white braid in confirmation. She watched him shudder with momentary weakness. Much like her, the realization of who she was crashed over him like a wave and left him reeling and breathless. She could see the confusion, the hurt, the anger all swelling within him… he looked down to her glowing her hand and slowly, sadly raised his eyes back up to hers. He knew it was killing her too.

                They stared at each other, in stunned reverie. They were unable to speak. Unable to move. The hopes of seeing each other again, they were dreams. Now here they were, face to face, covered in demon ichor.

                It was a good thing Cassandra was the only one paying attention to this emotional reunion, all of it was lost on her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald of Andraste finding out that she is the Herald of Andraste. And running around Haven. thank you for reading!!! C:

Chapter 6:

 

                Cassandra was waiting on the oddly quiet pair to move, but they just stared at each other. Their mouths open but not saying anything. She huffed. There were so many things still yet to do, and here they were just gawking at each other. “Are… you two… familiar with each other?” she asked at last, growing impatient.

                “No.” Cullen snapped upright. As if he were child, caught sneaking sweets.

                “Yes.” Elora answered at the same time.

                They stared at each other again. Cassandra cocked her head to one side, unsure of what was going on. Varric seemed to just slide across the battlefield to her side, to watch how this played out. And to see if there was more than one story going on.

                “Yes?” Cullen tried again.

                “No.” Elora replied in unison.

                “No.” Cullen said indefinitely, the look he gave her ushered her to do the same as well.

                Confused, somewhat hurt and reluctant, Elora managed a “no.” And turned her eyes away from him. She supposed she could understand… she was after all a rogue dalish elf, an apostate in their eyes, and he was a Commander apparently. It would be best for him not to be affiliated with someone like her… she should have seen that coming. She chewed her lip. Trying to not let this get to her right now- there were more important things worry over.

                Cullen cleared his throat after a time. “The way to the temple should be clear. Leliana will try to meet you there.”

                Cassandra nodded, “then we best move quickly. Give us time, Commander!”

                Cullen took a step closer to Elora, she didn’t raise her face, she was still unsure of herself. “Maker watch over you…” he breathed, she flicked her eyes up to him, she couldn’t read what she saw there, “for all our sakes…” he then turned to go back to their defenses, helping an injured recruit along the way. She watched after him…

                “Let’s hurry then! Leliana could be waiting for us.” Cassandra ushered them ahead, Elora didn’t look back again. She would figure this all out, she hoped. After she tried her glowing hand at sealing the hole in the sky.

 

***

 

                Elora woke up to a cozy warmth she had never experienced. She hadn’t yet opened her eyes. She was so tired. And whatever she was laying on swallowed her and cradled her in a plush embrace. It felt so good and safe. She pulled the covers a little tighter. A sigh leaving her. When was the last time she had slept in such a warm, comforting place? She couldn’t remember. She heard a fire crackling in the hearth. Her nose tingled with the scent of its smoke and pine. She tried to go back to sleep. She was exhausted, for some reason. She felt like she had ran as hard as she could in the forest days on end. She tried to concentrate on the soothing crackle of the fire instead of the achiness in her body. She sighed again, ready to fall back asleep. But something started to bother her- she could hear the murmur of voices, close by, but outside. There were other scents about. The scent of shems. Of horses. Of damp hay. Fresh snow. Pines. She could hear the sound of a hammer beating an anvil in the distance. The clashing of swords somewhere. Was she still dreaming? She pried her eyes open and started to stir-

                Just as she was beginning to sit up, an elf walked through the door. At the sight of Elora the elf cowered and almost threw herself to the floor in obeisance.  “I had no idea you were awake, I swear!” she cried, her voice muffled by the rug.

                “Don’t worry about it. I only-“ Elora started, feeling pity for this elf.

                “I beg your forgiveness and your blessing! I am but a humble servant! You are back in Haven, my lady. The Breach stopped growing. Just like the mark on your hand.” Elora looked to her palm, sure enough the girl was right. It looked much smaller than before, and she could feel that its hunger had abated. “It’s all everyone has talked about for the last three days!”

                “Then the danger is over….” Elora breathed, her shoulders shrugging in relief.

                “The Breach is still in the sky, but that’s what they say.” The girl rose to her feet, slowly backing towards the door, her nervousness evident. “Im sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you’re awake. ‘At once!’ she said…”

                “And where is she?”

                “In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor. ‘At once!’ she said!” She all but scurried out of the room, leaving Elora with her thoughts.

                For a moment, she thought she would wake up and it would all be some crazy dream. But looking at the flickering green light on her hand, she knew it wasn’t so. They had changed her clothes. Did the girl say three days? Had it really been three days since this started? What happened? She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to remember…

                She remembered a massive rift in the heart of what was once the Conclave. She had to open it to reseal it… Solas had warned that demons may come through. But no one was prepared for what did. She had never seen a Pride demon before. It was truly a gruesome and fearful thing to behold. She remember the sickening feeling in her stomach as she stared up at the behemoth. She didn’t know how they did it, but working together they were able to slay it and she was able to seal the rift. She winced remembering the pain- how her hand burned as she pulled with all of her might against the massive rift. She remembered feeling this surge of unknown mana and the next thing she knew… she woke up in this cabin.

                No doubt she was in some sort of shem base they had established after the temple had blown up. It made sense as to why she could smell and hear the horses and shems.

 

                Elora sighed to herself as she stepped out of her cabin, she guessed she had better go and see what Cassandra had wanted. She was sure there was no escaping. And with someone like Cassandra, even if she did try to run, she wouldnt get far. She was muttering to herself, hating the feel of the heavy, human boots on her feet when she heard-

               "That's her!" a gasp followed by several others. 

                She looked up and to her horror there was a hoard of people all gathered outside of her door, lining the path like she was her own parade and they had been waited with bated breaths. They mumbled, whispered, some wept and some scoffed at her. She heard "the herald of Andraste" over and over as she slowly walked through them. They were mesmerized by her every move, and she was traumatized by every single set of eyes upon her. She drew her hood closer around her face, hiding her hair. 'What is going on?!' she cried to herself, even more confused than when she woke up chained with a green glowing mark on her hand. They were in awe of her presence, she just wanted to run. Some bowed, others turned their noses up (which she would have been more comfortable with). She felt cold sweat accumulating and her stomach was turning. She had never been in the presence of so many shems, let alone their object of attention. Once she rounded the corner and was free of gaggling mob she took off sprinting. A familiar face at last- She found Varric, leisurely reading by a fire. 

                 "Where is Cassandra!?" she was frantic.

                 "Oh hey there, Stormy. Chantry. Top of the hill. Cant miss it."

                 "Thank you!" She took off sprinting again up the stairs. Two seconds later she turned around and came back to him. "What did you call me?"

                 "Stormy."

                  "Stormy?"

                  "Yeah." he shrugged. 

                  Elora was stupefied for a minute. Did he not remember her name? She _had_ been unconscious for three days and hadnt really spoken to him that much that fateful day... she could understand if he forgot.  "My name is Elora, Varric." she kindly reminded him.

                  "Im aware of that." he slowly turned the page, still not looking at her. As if the book were more interesting than the Dalish apostate mage, with an unknown magical mark on her hand, being called a prophet of the Bride of the Maker and with a large mass of whispering humans quietly shuffling behind her, following her like dogs waiting for a scrap. "Better get to the Chantry, trust me. Cassandra hates waiting. And you're already a few days late. "

                   "Right...." Elora nodded and started up the stairs, "i'll be back to ask about that."

                   "I know you will." Varric waved her off. "i look forward to it. Give my regards to Curly."

                    'Curly?' she wondered, shaking her head in confusion. Varric was probably the most puzzling person she had ever met. She felt like he was always hiding something or playing some kind of game with everyone though he had already won. She approached the Chantry, there Sisters gathered. Some gave her kind smiles, some schooled their features. She did not know what to make of the human religion. She knew little of it. Perhaps if she understood it a bit... she would show them she meant no disrespect. After all, she would be offended if someone just showed up with some strange, powerful magic and claimed to be Fen’Harel ( AN: teehee). She would certainly put an end to this nonsense about being some kind of herald for their Burning Woman. She nodded to them as she pushed through the doors. The Chantry was lovely, yet solemn. It was dark with only a few candles and sconces lit. She felt a bit of peace as she walked down its main aisle, at least there were not prying, poking eyes in this place. The tranquility ended when she heard raised voices behind the door she had to go through. She could barely make out what they were saying, but she knew it was about her and her fate. She drew in a deep breath and pushed through the doors.

                     As soon as she walked through the doors all she heard was-

                     "Chain her!" it was that inflated Chancellor again. He was pointing at her and some guards started to move.

                     "Disregard that and leave us." Cassandra snapped back, glaring at the pompous cleric. 

                     "The elf failed, Seeker. The breach is still in sky!"

                      Elora had had enough of him- "I did everything i could, it almost killed me."

                      "Yet you live. A convenient result, insofar as you’re concerned.” He sneered.

                      Elora glared at the withered man while Cassandra and Leliana came to her rescue. This chancelor was the epitome of what she previously thought humans were- arrogant, conniving, condescending and self righteous. He finally left, after Cassandra had hissed at him enough. She snuffed as the door slammed behind him. She had thrown a thick tome down on the table and was speaking about this “Inquisition.” Elora took note of the mark on the book, and saw the design on the tapestries that hung on the wall, and on Cassandra’s armor… She had an unsettling feeling.

                       She noticed a map spread over a table. Apparently this was some kind of meeting she had been summoned to. She then noticed Cullen was in the room as well. Her heart thudded. They locked eyes for a moment before she lowered hers. Still unsure what to make of their situation. She had hoped…  She needed to speak to him... alone... Creators knew when that would be. 

                        Cassandra went around the room formally introducing her advisors. 

                        "You’ve met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces.” So that was his full title. He could have at least mentioned he was the commander of this huge, upstart army.

                         Cullen gently nodded. "It was only for a moment on the battlefield. I’m please you survied."

                         Elora tried not to show the shock and then rage on her face. 'Pleased…I… survived?' she griped to herself 'Fenedhis! Just.. pleased that i _survived_?!' she couldnt believe it. Her eyes were glued on his face- but he did his best to avoid her critical stare. She could understand him not wanting to acknowledge her under these extreme circumstances- after all she hardly knew where she stood anymore- but this was an enormous slight. One she would not forget.

                          Meanwhile… Cullen was calling himself every foul name in the human language. 'Pleased you survived?! you could have said anything! it's good to see you. im glad you're here. im glad that you're ok. Anything! but nooo we're pleased that she survived! Stupid ass! She saved your life and nursed you back to health and you're only pleased that she survived! By the Maker! What she must think of me!' Though none of this inner panic and monologue showed on his face.

                          She also met Josephine Montilyet, a noble woman from Antiva, who was all manners and proper etiquette. She seems flustered one moment, confident the next, she had a different air about her than the others. After agreeing to aid this "Inquisition" in trying to fix whatever in the world was going on, the meeting was adjourned and Elora had been given her first mission as one of it’s agents: seek out one of those Chantry Sisters in a place called the Hinterlands, where there was a battle between mages and templars. Simple enough. It was so foolish to her that they were even fighting amongst each other when there were rifts all around, a hole in the sky and demons lurking in every corner.

                           But that was for tomorrow. Today she would build her strength back up and learn a little about this place, called Haven. Though what kind of haven it was, she could only guess. There were small cabins, tents lining the base and soldiers, messengers and refugees every which way. They were all burdened with a purpose Elora had yet to fully grasp. And most of them were shems. As she walked through, they all stared at her. She pulled her hood closer. She found herself nearing Solas. He was staring up at the Breach as if he were studying a painting, or a mural- hand under his chin in quiet, contemplation. She thought if she could relate to anyone, it would be him, though she was sadly mistaken- he had a very poor view of the Dalish. She couldnt completely blame him though... Her footsteps caught his attention.

                          "The Herald of Andraste, the blessed hero come to save us." she did not miss his sarcasm or incredulity. At least they agreed on naming her the Herald of Andraste was preposterous.

                           "Am i riding in on a shining steed?"

                           "I would have suggested a griffin... sadly they are extinct..."

                           A brief discussion with this curious elf had her feeling a bit better about her opinion of him. And she loved to hear his stories of his journeys, and the impressive knowledge he had gained from them about the Ancient Elves. She had promised to try to make up to him in whatever way the Dalish had wronged him. He was quiet after that, but thankful. She felt odd around him, she could feel the thrum of his mana and it was unlike any she had ever sensed before (apart from recent events)... Not wanting to disturb him any longer, she kept her comments to herself and continued on her way.

                            She discovered that Haven had a pub, where most of the refugees and some soldiers were spending their time. She lingered listening to the bard, her song and voice were soothing. She was going back to her cabin, to get a few moments to herself and came upon Varric again, still reading and quite at his leisure.

                           “So. How’d it go?” he gently shut his book.

                           “Im evidently part of this…” She gestured around, “Inquisition.”

                           “You were a part of it when you woke up with that mark on your hand. Whether you liked it or not.”

                           “Im afraid you’re right.” She somewhat smiled.

                            “Aww, don’t get all down and out on me, Stormy. It has it perks…. Uh… Can’t think of any right now… but… they’ll come along.”

                            “Again, what is with this name?” She cocked her head to one side.

                            “Its something that I do. Names are so boring, I like to add my touch to them.” He shrugged.

                            “So how did I end up with Stormy? Exactly?”

                            “Well, you shoot lightning bolts out of your hand, kid.”

                            “So does, Solas.”

                             “Chuckles is Chuckles. There is no better name.”

                             “Chuckles…” she felt that was the last name that suited Solas.

                             “Plus. You know. You got that hair and those crazy eyes.” Elora knew her hair was odd, but not her eyes. At least, she didn’t think so. “Basically, you’re just stormy. Get used to it.” He smirked, it was infectious.

                             She sat down with him for a bit, until the sun started to set. He checked up on her, made sure that she was doing ok, and she listened to him spin a story about Hawke. Even Elora knew of Hawke. The Champion of Kirkwall. Elora, a maiden at heart, was more fascinated with Hawke’s relationship with Fenris… Though she felt foolish asking Varric to tell her that tale. She would just have to swipe the Tale of Champion for the details.

                             She made it back to her cabin, she sighed and leaned against the door. Grateful she was the only one in the room. She practically tore the shem boots from her feet. ‘Creators how do they run in this clunky, heavy things?’ She stirred up her fire and fell over onto the bed- completely done. To her joy someone had brought a tray of food while she was out. She uncovered the lid and thank the Creators it was still piping hot. The smell alone made her salivate- she had to pace herself not to shove it down. The human food was a different taste to her, it was heavy, thick but very hearty and filling. She could barely finish the stew and bread.

                             Her mind went into a hundred different directions, once she finally had time to think. Everything seemed to be catching up to her- she realized her life would most likely never be the same. If she survived. The thought both terrified and excited her. She was no longer a Dalish pariah, but an agent of this Inquisition... she had a new mission and a purpose. All because of this mark on her hand. Was it a gift or a curse? She felt it flicker as if it could hear her thoughts. She wished she could remember just something, just one little piece. But there was nothing there. Her memory was a thick black fog. 

                             And then- there was Cullen. Her pulse quickened as she felt the anger rising again. His words and cold civility were still fresh in her mind. Perhaps she was overreacting and thinking too much of their time in the Graves... She had thought... she found someone she could finally trust. Even a little. He had made her laugh, made her smile, made her forget- something she hadnt done in so long. It meant something to her... even if it didnt mean anything to him. Which was evident now. 

                             "He probably hoped that we would never meet again..." she whispered to herself. It would explain why he kept checking... just to make sure. The Commander of the Inquisition couldnt be seen fraternizing with an apostate elf. Then again... he did want to introduce her to his men that day... and he seemed hurt when she had disappeared back into the woods…

                            She shook her head. She was so confused. She knew the only way to clear this up was to speak to Cullen about it all... She wondered what he thought when he saw her... He was clearly as shocked, as she was. The look on his face, how he studied every inch of hers in awe and disbelief… She laid her head down on the pillow and stared at the calm, crackling fire- she thought of dark honey colored eyes, warmed by a kind, gentle smile as she drifted off to sleep.

 

***

                       "And the Herald?" Cullen asked, hoping not to give away his anxiousness. He fiddled with one of the pieces on the war table to try to distract himself from his racing thoughts and pulse.

                       "She is resting. Im sure she is exhausted. Considering how her life has been turned upside down in the course of a few days." Leliana was shifting through the latest reports. 

                       "Did you say that the mark was... slowly killing her....?" he asked, almost choking on the words.

                       "According to Solas and Adan, who studied her while she slept, yes. The mark is slowly draining her of her energy and mana." Josephine sighed, clearly worried for their new charge. "however, closing the main rift at the temple, bought her more time it seems. The mark has faded somewhat, but its still there..."

                       "That is why we must act fast. If closing the Breach completely can save her..." Leliana trailed off and shook her head. " I only wish we knew more."

                       "As do I..." Cullen breathed. Leilianna and Josephine left a few moments after that, retiring for the evening. When Cullen was all alone, he slammed his fists into the thick table, scattering the papers and pieces onto the floor. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is short :T so i thought i would go ahead and post it. just some more running around Haven... also cullen is a mother hen. thank you for reading C:

Chapter 7:

 

               She met Harritt. She liked him. He was rough around the edges, but honest and hard working. He had crafted her her own unique armor. And she was touched that he made it look more elven than human. It was light weight and conformed to her in all the right ways that would make battle much easier than those bulky, cumbersome human robes.. She especially liked the colors, dark greens, calm blues and a subtle silver. While the arms and legs were cloth, the actual armor was a thick, padded dark grey leather, the boots and gloves too, sure to keep her warm and well protected- provided she didnt charge into battle like Cassandra. She thanked him over and over again, ecstatic about her new clothes. The nicest she had ever had. He tried not to show his delight in her praise of his work- he rubbed his nose and looked the other way. His workers saw him fighting a smile. 

              In her new gear, she left the stables and smithy. The barracks and training grounds were just across the way. She saw Cassandra hacking away at an unfortunate straw dummy and Cullen staring down his new recruits.... She chewed her lip, but wandered over... determined to try to figure out where exactly she stood with the Commander. He had every right to be mad at her, for leaving him, and she had every right to be mad at him for pretending not to know her... 

             Cassandra swung her sword with a precision and strength Elora had never seen. Straw and hunks of wood flew all over.

             "I think you need dummies made of sturdier stuff...." Elora suggested, Cassandra snorted and took off one of its arms. "...Like maybe iron."

             "Did i do the right thing...?" Cassandra sighed, lowering her sword for a moment. Elora then knew this fight had nothing to do with training, but was over an inner battle Cassandra was warring with herself. She could understand. She was fighting herself over a certain blonde Commander. Perhaps she needed to adopt Cassandra's thinking method, to take out her frustration with everything. 

              Cassandra shared her thoughts and feelings with Elora. Who was surprised and humbled. It seemed Cassandra was nothing like what Elora had thought in the first meeting. She was honest, and straight forward. A rare trait. Elora felt privileged that Cassandra confided in her. Cassandra was a strong, fearless, disciplined individual, but even she was stumbling over these past events. Questioning their decisions, doubting her judgment, wondering over their future...

              She asked Elora if she believed in their Maker. Elora was quiet for a while- she looked around to the soldiers, to the Sisters, up to the Chantry. Clinging to their faith with all that they were worth. It was all they had.They all believed she was the herald of their beloved prophet. The hope and trust she saw in their faces when they looked at her... 

             "I believe he exists..." she whispered. How could  she not? How could she dismiss the hope and faith of these people?

             Cassandra was surprised at her admission and pleased. They parted on better terms and Elora hoped their next discussion would be an even more friendly one. 

             Cullen kept his back to her, watching his troops like a bird of prey, ready to swoop down on any mistake. "You there! its a shield! You’re supposed to block with it! If that men was your enemy you'd be dead!" he growled, the recruit was rattled and nearly dropped his weapon, Cullen snarled and shook his head. She had not seen much of this side of him- the overbearing Commander. As she approached him she was desperately thinking of what to say, and how to act... she assumed they should still maintain this farce of not knowing each other. As much as it hurt her to do so... She had to, for his sake.

               He turned his head a little and caught her coming up behind him- he almost tripped over himself as he spun around- "Elor-," he lowered his voice and calmed himself, "I mean... Herald." His eyes looked around to see if anyone noticed. She wouldnt let that bother her. 

               "Commander." She dipped her head. She had abandoned her hood, there was no point trying to hide from these people. They literally followed her every move. 

                She tried to act natural with him, as he gave her an overview of his position, how he joined and purpose of their forces. She was listening, truly, but was instead hearing his voice over his words. She liked the way he talked, his voice was soothing to her. He became impassioned about all that they could accomplish as the Inquisition-

               "There's so much that we could- Forgive me... i doubt you came here for a lecture..." he shook his head at himself, the kindling fire in his amber eyes dying down as quickly as it had begun. She couldnt help but smile over this.

                "No, but if you have one prepared, i would love to hear it..." 

                Cullen's eyes locked on hers for the first time during their conversation, and traveled down to her smile.... he cleared his throat and then quickly looked away. "Another time perhaps. There's still a lot of work to do..."

                "Commander!" One of the agents came charging up to him.

                 "As I was saying..." the cavalier look he gave her, and the lilt his voice took her back to before. He was the Cullen she knew again... She smiled after him and started walking behind him, on her own way back to the Chantry. 

                 As she walked by him he managed to whisper- "I would... greatly like to speak to you..." she looked up at him, there was a vulnerability and worry in his gaze. A recruit stepped up to him, "When you have a moment, Herald- I have some reports for you to look over." He stiffened up. 

                 She tried not to smile. What a horrible liar he was. "Of course, Commander." And she took her leave.

***

 

                 Later that morning, Elora, Varric and Solas were summoned to the Chantry, it was time to head out on their first mission. They were given a few supplies, a map and were told to look for an Inquisition Camp and to speak to Scout Harding first off. She would direct them to this Mother Giselle. She was relieved to have Cassandra amongst her party. At least she knew what she was doing. Maybe.

                 "Good luck, and be careful, Herald. The Hinterlands have become a forefront for the mage and templar rebellion." Lelianna cautioned. Elora solemnly nodded her head. She was not looking forward to the ignorance they would have to face. 

                 "Have you proper armor? Weapons? Enough potions?" Cullen suddenly stepped up, he looked a little pale if anyone cared to look closely.

                  "Yes Commander," Cassandra assured him, a little taken aback by his outburst. Elora had been give a fire based staff, it would not have been her first choice, but supplies were limited. It would still be all she needed. "We will most likely find more supplies in the field, we will bring back what we can." 

                  "Good.... Just..." he ran his hands through the back of his head, "Just take care."

                 "Aw Curly, thank you for being so concerned over me. Im touched. Truly." Varric placed a hand over his chest as he shouldered Bianca. Cullen glared at him, Varric blew him a kiss. 

                  "He's Curly?" Elora questioned as they started walking away. She couldn’t help but laugh.

                   "You couldnt tell? Come on, Stormy."

                  She did not get to speak to Cullen after that, though their previous conversation gave her some hope. The main gates clattered open and they departed for the unknown in the Hinterlands.

                  Cullen stood at the gates, watching them ride away. "Maker watch over you..." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elora and Cullen finally have a moment to talk C: thank you so much for kudos and comments and thank you for reading!

Elora had never been so exhausted in her life... She had worked hard and labored every day in her clan- but nothing like this. 

They made it to the Hinterlands and met Scout Harding, a fiery, confident, outspoken dwarf who Elora instantly liked. She reminded Elora of how she wished she could be. Just a mile into the woods, they came upon a bloody battle. Elora was not prepared for just how bad it was going to be. They tried to reason with the mages and templars, but they would hear none of it and turned their magic or blades upon them. They had no choice but to fight. Elora hated having to kill them... when they could talk, help them to see reason, ask for help to close the Breach... But they fell one by one.

Elora was terrified of the templars powers. Their sheilds, armor and will deflected her magic- like waves splashing against cliffs. Cassandra warned her of their power, granted by lyrium, they could easily undo a mage and leave them helpless, draining them of mana and disrupting a mage's precious connection with the Fade. Elora had hardly any experience in sword play... she would be at their mercy, which was nonexistent. 

They finally found Mother Giselle, tending to the wounded. She was a soft spoken woman, but not about her beliefs. She decided to join the Inquisition to help them in their deals with Chantry and to help in any way that she could. She urged them to go to the capital to seek further aid there. Cassandra sent word to Leliana and they proceeded with the rest of their mission. 

There was so much bloodshed. So many innocent lives lost. And then demons and rifts scoured the fields as well... The Hinterlands was indeed a battlefield. Elora felt the weight of it start bearing down on her shoulders and heart.

                They were to find the horse master, Dennet and get horses for their troops. However, in order to earn the horses, Dennet put them on another quest to quell some wolves, and make the roads safe enough to take the prized steeds to Haven. It was no easy feat... 

It seemed one issue led to another... There was so much help needed. They hunted down rams in the woods for food for the starving refugees. They found hidden supply caches the mages had stowed away, for the refugees as well. During that, they also found a sort of cult that had turned to worshiping a rift… They then had to clear out the mage and templar camps. Again they had tried to reason, tried to appeal to their humility, but they ended up in heated battles. There were rogue bears that gave them the fight of their lives. Finally they had to clear out a thief stronghold... it was more than they bargained for...

However, they accomplished everything that they set out to do, and what's more, they helped those in need, recruited more people for the Inqusitiion and saved a small village from a raging war between mages and templars. Needless, to say they were overly exhausted. Except for Cassandra, who could probably do it all over again. By herself. 

Elora never thought she would be this happy to see the gates of Haven, but she was. A heavy sigh of relief shuddered out of her. They had been gone for almost a week. Though most of it was spent fighting or negotiating, Elora also learned a lot about her companions. It was a nice distractiong amidst flinging lighting at templars. She heard a bell ringing, announcing their return- the soliders stopped practicing and people started coming out of the slowly opening gates to watch the Herald's return.

Master Dennet and some of his horses had arrived beforehand, he waved to them in greeting. Elora felt a pang in her chest. The horses were definitely worth the effort, but none could compare to Ivun. She had left him in the woods outside of the conclave. He was an intelligent hart, he would know to run from Breach, but how would she find him...? She started hatching a plan even as she walked into Haven. 

Leliana, Josephine and Cullen waited at the Chantry for them. Solas and Varric took their leave as they met to go over the events at Haven. 

"So then, its off to Val Royeaux to see what more we can learn." Cassandra sighed. She would rather return to the Hinterlands than brave the capital- all those arrogant, back stabbing, self entitled nobles. They were more dangerous than any bear to her. 

They were to see if they could acquire more allies at the capital, especially from the nobility. As a growing force and cause they would need all the support they could get. However, they had a few days to catch their breath before heading out again. Elora thanked the Creators silently to herself. Her body ached, her hands were more blistered than ever before. But she knew this was but a taste of what was to come- she would have to get stronger, faster, tougher, if she wanted to survive. And that was imperative as she was the only one who could close the rifts... 

Josephine caught the Herald wincing, “are you alright Lady Lavellan?”

“Just a little tired. And sore.”

“I am sorry we have kept you. Please, go and rest, we will discuss things further, later. Once you’ve had a chance to catch your breath.”

“Thank you,” Elora bowed her head, shambling back down the hall. She would sleep like the dead once she made it back to her little cabin. It was nice to know she could sleep in peace, not fearing a bear or group of mages could attack their camp at any given moment.

 

***

               

                Elora woke in the middle of the night. She dressed in dark garments and wrapped a cowl around her head to hide her face and hair. She peered out one of the windows of her cabin, the coast seemed clear enough. She would wait for the guards to rotate and quickly sneak over the gate. If she was going to find Ivun she would have to act fast and be back before the morning. It would be disastrous for someone to come for her in the morning and she not be there- they would think she had disserted them… She decided to look around the rubble of the temple and in the surrounding forests. Perhaps Ivun lingered there waiting for her to come back. Her heart ached with thought of it.

                She quickly climbed over the wall, using a tree and crawling over its branches that stretched over the gate then softly plodded on the other side. She landed at the front of the barracks, with Cassandra and Cullen’s tents right in front of her. She had to be quiet… she knew now that Cassandra was a very light sleeper. She started out slowly and carefully. As she passed their tents and was almost to the woods when she heard thrashing and muffled sounds in one of the tents. It frightened her, it sounded like someone was fighting, and losing. She almost reached for her staff when she heard a cry and then labored breathing. It was quiet for a few moments, Elora didn’t know what to make of it- if she should check on whoever it was, or run in to the woods before someone else came to check out the noises? She heard some more shuffling, her hands started to tingle with her mana as she prepared a spell… ready for anything…

                Then Cullen stepped out of his tent, even in the moonlight she could see he was pale and sickly, dripping with sweat. He gasped for the cool night air as if he had been suffocating. He held his head in one hand, obviously in pain, and was weak on his feet. She started to move towards him and it drew his attention-

                “Who’s there!” He barked and reached for his sword- that he left in his tent. He was dressed in common dark breeches and had only pulled on a loose undershirt, the strings untied and fretted. He was stunned at his realization that he was unarmed.

                She saw no way to avoid this now. “It’s me, Cullen…” she slowly slipped her hood off. The pale moonlight making her hair reflect its glow.

                “Elor- Hera- Lady Lavellan! Maker! What are you doing out here-? At this time of night?” he spat, clearly not in a good mood from whatever ailed him.

                “Nevermind me, are you alright?” she asked as she approached him. She saw the dark circles around his normally beautiful eyes- they were dark, plagued by something.

                He averted his face from her. “Im fine. Just… a bad dream…” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He then observed she was dressed for travel, had a small bag and her staff strapped across her back. His fur ruffled. “Leaving me again?” he bit.

                Elora took a step back from him. She had never thought him capable of being so cruel. He must have seen the hurt on her face because he instantly broke-

                “Herald- No- Elora, im sorry. Forgive me… I am.. not myself… at the moment.” He looked almost ready to collapse. She was greatly concerned, pushing aside the torrent of her thoughts and feelings.

                “You need to go back and rest…” she urged him, cautiously approaching him.

                “No… no… that is the last thing I need.” He growled again. “I will be fine in a few minutes. Once the headache passes.”

                “Are you unwell?” he heard the worry in her voice, and he weakly smiled.

                “Im fine. Thank you for your concern.” He straightened himself, the cool air making him feel better and soothing his burning, feverish skin. “May I ask…?”

                She saw no harm in letting him know. “Im going to look for Ivun. I wont have time during the day… not with all that’s going on… and I doubt they will just let me go searching on my own.”

                “May I join you?” he softly asked. “I would be happy to help. After all, I owe Ivun my thanks.”

                A smile tugged at her mouth. “I suppose. But you might want to put on some warmer clothes, Commander.”

                Cullen was immediately embarrassed the Herald of Andraste saw him in such an indecent state. He hurried in to his tent trying to tie his shirt.

 

***

 

                They arrived at the remains of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It was oddly quiet and unsettling. There seemed to be a somber, heavy aura about it.  Elora chalked it up to being the first place the Breach corrupted, taking with it so many innocent lives. Indeed, it could be seen the best from here- The pulsing gash in the sky. Its green vapors streaking through the clouds like venomous veins. She started to look for any signs of tracks in the fresh fallen snow. Ivun’s would be unmistakable and she started to call to him- a simple whisle. Cullen was still distracted by the tragedy, the melancholy of this place. He was slowly looking around, the weight of the loss fresh upon him again.

                “It’s hard to believe…” he breathed, staring up at a ragged banner that desperately clung to a crumbling wall. “This is where is all started.” He had pulled on some boots, kept his dark breeches, donned a heavier shirt and his same furred crimson cloak. His breath curled around his face as he looked around in solemnity.

                “And here is where we met again.” She breathed as well. Remembering the sensation she felt when their eyes locked- it rocked her and stole her breath.

                Cullen was quiet for a moment. She looked back at him, he was watching her with a hardened gaze. “I have been… meaning to talk to you about this.” He rubbed the back of his head.

                “I suppose now is a good as time as any.” She gestured around them, not another soul present. “Probably the only time we could speak to each alone. What with you being a Commander and im the dubbed Herald of Andraste…” she scoffed. She hated the constant attention and prying.

                “First,” he started slowly circling her, arms folded behind his back, “ I would like to ask… why you… left?”

                “I thought it for the best. Though I didn’t know your title then, I didn’t think it a good idea for someone like you to be affiliated with… someone like me. I didn’t want you to lose respect. And it was already… difficult for me…” she lowered her eyes, not wanting to elaborate.

                “You could have at least told me good bye. What if we had never met again?” He standing in front of her now, she could feel his warmth.

                “Well. We will never know. Considering we have.”

                “I just thought that- after our time together… you would have at least considered…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, the point is I was upset when you just vanished like that…”

                “Im sorry, Cullen. Perhaps I was protecting myself more than I realized. Im Dalish, it’s what we do. Avoid shems. Especially large groups.” That was only part of it.

                He laughed somewhat, “I suppose.”

                They were quiet for some moments. Elora continued to whistle and look for signs of Ivun as they walked into the surrounding woods. It was a beautiful winter’s night, considering the state of the world- calm, serene, the scent of the pines and soft snow falling- the moon had escaped the clutches of the Breach torn sky, it was full, milky white and cast a diaphanous glow about the forest. Elora noted the snowflakes sailing into Cullen’s somewhat mussed hair.

                “So what do we do?” she finally asked, her breath swirling around her in the cold.

                Cullen came to a stop in front of her and slowly turned around to face her. “That is what I wish to discuss the most.” He admitted, his eyes falling from her face.

                She chewed her lip and wandered away, he followed after her. “I will admit… I was a little- startled- when you said we had never met.”

                “Forgive me,” he caught up to her, “I was trying to protect you. In my own way… Where ive come from, what ive been through- it would just have been better for you, if you were not connected with me. There would have been so many questions. Especially with you now being the Herald. Im sorry I couldn’t explain earlier. I was torturing myself over what you must have thought over me…” he sighed, his shoulders slacking beneath his fur gambeson. She wondered what all he had been through to make him make such a decision. She could see on his face how troubled he was.

                “Perhaps you could tell me about it. Another day.” She offered gently.

                “I… yes… another day.” He gave her a weak smile. “And I would like to hear more of your Dalish camp stories.” He laughed, she had told him stories of her misadventures before.

                “Another day for that as well.” She continued to whistle, searching the evergreens for any sign of Ivun.

                “For now…” Cullen whispered beside her, “let us keep our… knowing of each other… for ourselves?”

                “Agreed.” She nodded, wanting to protect him as he was protecting her. Their feet crunched in the freshly fallen snow. “So… does this mean you weren’t ashamed of knowing me?” she finally got the nerve to ask.

                Cullen tripped and almost fell over into a pile of snow and pine needles. He righted himself, “my lady, no! Wh-whatever gave you such a thought?” he was absolutely crushed that she had that opinion of him.

                She didn’t meet his gaze, “You’re the Commander of the Inquisition. Im an apostate Dalish elf. You’re not the only one that has come from somewhere and been through something…” her gaze drifted. Cullen didn’t press her further.

                “My being a Commander and you being a mage, does not concern me in the least. I hope you know that.” He gently said.

                They heard something slowly plodding in the snow, afraid it could be a bear or wolves they drew their weapons. Elora almost cried when she saw Ivun duck beneath branches. When they recognized each other, they both sprinted to the other. She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and buried her face into his fur, he nuzzled her back snorting and sniffing. Cullen couldn’t help but smile as he watched the happy reunion. Ivun seemed to have taken good care of himself in her absence- though he would see to it that the hart had an overly abundant meal once they returned.

                They walked in companionable silence back to Haven, she kept one hand on the side of Ivun’s neck as they walked. She was ecstatic to be reunited with her hart.

                “Im sure Master Dennett will be pleased to have such a fine creature in his stables.” Cullen remarked.

                She laughed knowing that Dennett would probably faint- the man loved halla, wait until he saw a hart. They continued to wander on, Haven in their sight. “There was one more thing I wanted to ask you about…”

                “Yes?” Cullen seemed to hold his breath.

                “You were only ‘pleased that I survived?’”

                “Oh Maker…” Cullen breathed and hid his red face in his hands.

                They made it back to Haven with little trouble. They snuck Ivun into the stables to surprise Dennett in the morning, then Elora returned to her cabin- Cullen noted the lag in the guard she pointed out and made a note to find a solution in the morning.

                Elora finally crawled back into bed, she was still beyond exhausted from returning to the Hinterlands and spending most of the night walking the forest. However, her heart felt a bit lighter now that she was able to speak to Cullen. She was glad that her previous assumptions were far from the truth. She was even more glad that, despite their friendship being a secret, it seemed to have grow. She found herself smiling recalling the events of the evening- especially the way the snow stuck in his hair, making it glisten like real gold. Though they had figured somethings out, she was still unsure of what it was about Commander Cullen that made him so… different… she drifted into a deep sleep trying to figure out what it was.


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

                 Elora had hoped the trip to Orlais would be beneficial. That they would arrive with more allies than they could imagine, because everyone would feel compelled to join their cause. Surely they would realize that the Breach threatened them all and would want to stop it as soon as possible.  However, as they walked in to the gilded gates, a lady screamed and nearly fainted at the sight of them- so her aspirations were shot down pretty swiftly. And it only got worse. They came upon a mob of sorts- a Chantry sister was flinging insults and accusations to the Inquisition and chiefly Elora. Claiming that Andraste would never an _elf_ to save them and calling them heretics. Elora wanted to point out that the Hero of Ferelden was an elf, but instead insisted that they join together to defeat a common enemy- the Breach. Templars then took the stage and, in a shocking turn of events, knocked the Sister unconscious with a blow to the back of her head. Elora didn’t like the squawking hen, but she felt somewhat bad for her… somewhat…

                The Templars also shot down their offer of an alliance, and further put down the Inquisition as an upstart. Cassandra however noticed something off about the Lord Seeker, and wanted to further investigate just what was going on at Therinfal Redoubt. They thought it best to return to Haven with the few connections they had made and plan what to do next. Elora took five steps and an arrow stuck into the ground beside her, scaring her half to death.

                “Is it like this in Val Royeaux all the time?” She huffed, retrieving a message that was attached to the arrow.

                “The arrow is definitely new. Usually it’s a knife in the back. Or an assassin while you sleep.” Cassandra remarked, scoffing at some nobles gliding past them.  

                “Seems like a list of… red… items…?” Elora could barely make out the odd scribble.

                “Do we really have time for a scavenger hunt, lethallan?” Solas was eager to leave Val Royueax as well.

                “I think we should look into it…” Varric scratched his chin, “something seems awfully familiar about all this red stuff…”

                Elora decided to at least follow the clues, perhaps it was someone trying to help them. Again she took about five steps before she was stopped again by a finely dressed, well mannered messenger. He handed her an invitation to a get together hosted by a Madame Vivienne de Fer.

                And again, as she was just merely walking through the lavish courtyard she was stopped by none other than the Grand Enchanter, Fiona. Cassandra was surprised to see her, the leader of the mage rebellion in a city full of Templars. She put herself in a great deal of danger to approach them so. She offered the aid of her mages, and pointed fingers at the templars. She asked them to visit Redcliff to discuss matters in greater detail. Elora was starting to get a headache trying to keep up with everything.

                “Things just keep getting interesting around here…” Elora sighed, eager to return to Haven.

                “They certainly do… I just had to autograph some covers of ‘Swords and Sheilds’ that’s happened maybe three times since the first book went out. Crazy.” Varric shook his head in disbelief. Cassandra and Solas glared at him.  

                And so they followed the clues from the message, to an alleyway after dark, which was disconcerting enough. They uncovered a plot by a nobleman who was trying to thwart the Inquisition’s efforts. Before much could be said, the nobleman had an arrow through his face. And this is how they met and acquired Sera, of the Red Jennies as a member of the Inquisition. Elora didn’t know what to make of her. She had yet to make a sensible, coherent sentence. And she couldn’t tell exactly whose side Sera was on- for the most part it seemed the Inquisitions, but also Sera’s own side. She said that she was wanting to help “the little people” with her band of “Friends of the Red Jenny” offering them further aid, which seemed a good enough cause to Elora.

                While they were still Orlais they made one last stop to this Madamme Vivienne’s dinner party. Elora was blown away by the grandeur of her estate. It was decorated with all the latest furnishings and polished to perfection. She felt severely underdressed in the robes Harrit had made for her. And when she finally saw the fabled Madame de Fer, she truly felt out of place. She had the air and confidence of an empress, and was a breathtaking sight to behold. Elora had never met a finer lady in all of her life. She was surprised that Vivienne wanted to join the Inquisition, but she had her own reasons- she wanted to restore order to the Chantry and to the Circle. Elora knew so little of both, but she didn’t understand that the Circle was an order for maintaining, educating and studying the mages. The Dalish didn’t have such a thing… But if things had been different, Elora would most likely be a mage in the Circle. She would have to look into these matters in order to form an opinion of this.

                They came to Orlais to make ties and allies, and that’s what they did, albeit some of the ties (Sera’s) were very questionable.

                And so, with more questions than answers, the party returned to Haven. Leliana was already mostly informed, Elora was not surprised at the Spymaster’s impressive information network. They now had to decide who they would turn to for aid, the Templars or the Mages…

                “It is worth looking a little more further in to both…” Josephine offered, though she sided with the mages.

                “Then we shall discuss it. And plan to at least hear what Grand Enchanter Fiona has to say.”

                “We will need more power for your mark in order to seal the breach, I suggest we approach the rebel mages” Leliana offered.

                “And I disagree, the Templars could serve just as well…” Cullen huffed.

                “We need power, Commander, enough power-“ Cassandra started.

                “Could destroy us all!” Cullen threw his hands up, “Templars could suppress the Breach, weaken it so-“

                “Pure speculation.” Leiliana folded her arms. It seemed that tension was getting high, Elora was uncomfortable already. She knew she would have to be the one to make the call, and right night she just wanted to crawl under the table.

                “ _I_ was a templar… I know what theyre capable of…” Cullen growled, he didn’t realize what his admission had done. Elora tried to not show the shock on her face, the fear in her eyes- however Cullen caught his mistake. He grimaced and looked away.

                Leliana gave Elora another mission before they adjourned. Elora tried to keep her features schooled, though inwardly she was trembling. She was given the mission of seeking out a lone Grey Warden in the Hinterlands. There had been strange report of Grey Wardens disappearing and Leliana had suspicions that it could be connected with the Breach somehow. It was worth checking out after recovering from Val Royeaux, the Hinterlands would be welcomed. She agreed, and started out of the Chantry, where she met a well armored soldier who claimed to be a part of the “Chargers.” He offered her to come and watch the Chargers in action on the Storm Coast, to see if they were what the Inquisition was looking for. Pleased with this soldier, she accepted and made a note to inform Leliana. Right now, she needed to clear her thoughts and reason with herself-

                Cullen was a Templar. Her breath hitched in her chest. He was something she had been taught to fear all of her life. Templars hated and feared mages. They caught them and trapped them like mice. They severed their connection to the Fade with their own corrupted powers and drained mages of their strength. They were a mage’s greatest enemy other than demons. They believed all mages were tempted or possessed by demons and were all too eager to cut them down. Had Cullen done these things? Would he have done these things to her if their circumstances were different? She gripped her chest. She reasoned with herself. Cullen knew she was a mage from the first time they met, and he showed no hostility, no resentment… she had even asked if her being a mage bothered him. He declined, with a pained smile. Tears stung her eyes for a moment. She was upset that he had hid this from her.

                She puzzled over this as she walked- her emotions raw, she tried to think clearly. It was strange to her- The templars she had fought she could hear the thrum of the lyrium coursing through their veins, she could feel the Fade ripple around them. But she hadnt sensed any of it from Cullen before. Now that she knew what he was- she noticed the slight, humming from him, the disruption of the Fade around him. She had been too blinded by his smiles to notice before. 

                She didnt know if she should be angry with him for hiding this from her. But she was somewhat upset. He knew that she was a mage... templars didnt trust mages... She warred within herself. She should fear him, fear his power... they shouldn’t trust each other.

                "Herald!" she heard someone fast approaching. It was Cullen, she wanted to keep walking until she figured this out... but he caught her upper arm and forced her to stop. "Forgive me... I didnt- i should have-" he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Maker, im such a fool..." he whispered to himself. "I should have told you. But when you told me that you feared- that you hated Templars... i didnt want you to mistrust and despise me." 

                 Elora recalled their conversation in Graves. She had told him what her Keeper had warned her about Templars. How they were a mages greatest rival and threat. That they were the most dangerous things a mage could face. She raised her eyes to him- in his face she saw how truly sorry and regretful he was. His benevolent, gentle amber eyes, his kind, charming face, there was nothing to hate about him. Templar or no.

                "I can understand, if you are angry with me." his hand fell, along with his countenance. "I never should have hid that from you. I hope this wont hurt our..." he stumbled looking for a word, "our relationship. As- as commander and herald, I mean."

                "As commander and herald?" she questioned.

                "No. that isnt right either. Maker..." he pressed a hand to his head, "I should say- as Cullen and... Elora."

                A smile quirked the corner of her mouth, and saw the flicker of hope in his eyes. "There is no harm done, Cullen. I was only a little shocked. You can imagine, after what i was told about the horrible cruel templars, how much knowing you caught me off guard. A templar, but not a horrible, cruel bone in your body…"

                He scoffed, "you’re lucky you're the Herald and not one of my recruits." 

               "Would you yell at me and knock me to the ground as you do your recruits?" she laughed, recalling just how rough and daunting he was with his soldiers. A fierce lion circling a pack of scared cubs. 

               He walked some paces along her side, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the training grounds. "....probably not." he admitted with a slight blush. "But I wouldnt go easy on you either." he warned, raising a cautionary eyebrow at her, his playful smile however did little to back his threat.

               "Is that right?" she smiled back at him. He couldnt look away from it. "I think I could handle whatever it is you would throw at me." She tipped her chin up at him. "Do your worst, Commander."

               "You think so?" he smirked, she noticed his normally bright amber gaze darkened somewhat as he stepped up to her, "I would like to see you try." His voice matched this dark gleam in his eyes as he was coming up to his full height in front of her, ascending to the same step she was on.. Her heart raced as she stared up at him. She didnt realize how much taller he was than her until now. Or how broad his shoulders were. He folded his arms over his chest, still having a cocky smirk on his scarred mouth. She started feeling a heat crawl over her and a blush broom across her cheeks. She felt uncomfortable all of a sudden and she could barely think of a retort because all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears.

                 He continued up the stairs, clearing his throat. "I am pleased that this will not be an issue between us, regardless."

                 "As am I... and you have no problem with me... being a mage?" 

                 He offered his hand to help her walk over a step covered in slick ice. He smiled as her hand slipped into his glove, "none at all. I assure you, Lady Elora."

                 Elora bowed her head, hiding her own smile, tucking a strand of her milky white hair behind her pinking ears.. She also noticed the way his fingers brushed over her palm and lingered along hers as he let go of her hand.

                 She wasnt sure what exactly was going on, or what exactly had happened between them. But she was starting to realize, or at least have a sort of inclination, as to why Cullen was so different. No one else made her heart race with anticipation, her mind wander with hope, and her palms sweat like Cullen.


	10. Chapter 10

 

                   Since that day, Elora had managed to acquire two new companions: the gruff Grey Warden Blackwall and the impressive Iron Bull- The Iron Bull, rather. Blackwall seemed to be exactly what a Grey Warden ought to be to her- honorable, a strong fighter, able to take command on the field, garbed in the legendary shiny regalia and hard working- she also was fascinated by his beard. She hadnt quite figured out The Iron Bull. She had never really seen a Qunari before, but she could tell, even amongst his kind, he was one to be reckoned with. She had vaguely heard of this Ben Hassareth and knew that though Iron Bull seemed to light hearted, and jovial, he was constantly watching, learning and observing every little detail. She didnt know if that was exactly comforting. Having a Qunari spy dictating their every move to his correspondents...seemed ominous. But she genuinely liked Bull and appreciated his advice and insight. His crew, the Chargers, seemed more like his family than just simply his men. They were what she hoped she and her companions could be. They all trusted and respected each other. She sat around with them at the tavern some nights, laughing and listening to their outlandish stories. Varric usually joined her. 

                   She had also, in that time, traveled to Redcliffe Village and met with the former Grand Enchanter Fiona. It was a very odd and unsettling experience... She at first pretended not to know Elora though she had personally invited her. Elora then knew that something was rotten in Redcliffe Village, but she had no idea of the depths of it.

                  They had learned that a Tevinter Magister by name of Alexius had taken control of not only the rebel mages, by forcing them into servitude with the Imperium in exchange for protection, but he had also taken over the Arl of Redcliffe's estate.  It was quite a hostile environment... 

                  The Magister's son, Felix had arranged for her to meet him privately. Though she feared it could be a trap. When they got there they found a Tevinter Mage named Dorian Pauvus battling a rift unlike others they had seen- it could warp time in little pools around it. Elora stepped into one on accident and she seemed to move in slow motion despite her best efforts- Cassandra pulled her out before she was cut down by a demon. 

                  After sealing the rift, this Dorian explained that Alexius was working on some kind of time alternating magic, using the rifts. Which seemed preposterous at first, but as he went further into explanation, became a chilling truth. 

                “To reach Redcliffe before the Inquisition, Alexius distorted time itself.” Dorian claimed.

                “To get here before me? How is that possible?”

                “The rift you closed here, yes? You saw how it twisted time around itself- sped somethings up, and slowed others down? Soon, there will be others like it. And they will appear further and further away from Redcliffe. The magic Alexius is using is wildly unstable. And it’s unraveling the world…” his melodious voice became tinged in anger. “What I don’t understand it why he is doing it…”

                “He didn’t do it for them…” Felix suddenly stepped out of the shadows.

                “Took you long enough!” Dorian was back to himself, “is he getting suspicious?”

                “No. but I shouldn’t have played the illness card…” Elora then understood that both Dorian and Felix were plotting behind Alexius’ back to undo whatever he was trying to attempt with the time rifts. “My father has joined a cult of Tevinter supremacists. They call themselves Ventatori. And I can tell you one thing, whatever he has done with them, he has done to get to you…” Felix turned his eyes on Elora.

                “To get to me? But why?”

                "They're obsessed with you." Felx offered, whoever this cult, called the Ventatori, was they obviously knew something about the mark. And wanted to harness its power for their own evil intent. 

                “You know you’re his target. Expecting the trap is the first step in turning it to your advantage.” Dorian offered. He could not stay in Redcliffe due to hiding their scheme from Alexius and Felix had to get back before the Magister started looking for him again. They thanked Dorian and Felix for their help and went back to Haven to report to the Advisors. 

                It was up to Elora to decide as to who they decided to pursue. The time warping Tevinter Magister, or the questionable, plotting Lord Seeker. She couldnt make a decision just then, she walked away from the war table to put her thoughts in order. The pressure settling heavy on her shoulders, she took a walk in the surrounding woods to try to calm herself and weigh the pros and cons of her choices.

                With the mages- she could stop this crazed Magister and learn exactly what he and his Ventatori were up to with this odd time magic. Traveling through time, just to get ahead of her and capture the mages? Why? Perhaps since they knew enough of the rifts to discover this magic, they knew about the mark. With the templars they would gain a worthy alliance, they would be a force to be reckoned with, and would also see what the Lord Seeker was up to behind the walls of Therinfall Redoubt. They would also perhaps discover more information about this red lyrium. They would certainly be more comfortable harboring templars as opposed to mages, since the Fade was bleeding and demons were prevalent. Mages all risked possession, templars provided protection... Yet she was a mage… She was so torn.

               She sighed and sat down on a fallen tree, it had buckled beneath the snow. It reminded her of the one in the Graves, except much smaller, she was barely able to sit completely on it. And there was snow all over instead of luscious green grass.

                If only it could have stayed like that... carefree, filled with laughter and quiet, restful days in the forest. Would Cullen have stayed with her....? She knew the answer. He was a Commander, responsible, loyal and committed to his cause...  she smiled to herself. Her ears twitched when she heard the sound of heavy steps crunching in the snow.

               "There you are...." Cullen pushed past some low, snow laden branches.

               "You found me, Commander. And here I had hoped to escape from the war table." She sadly laughed to herself.

               "Well then," He sat down on the tree beside her, snow in his furry pauldron, “how about I just be Cullen.”

               “I suppose I could settle for that.”

               “How are you holding up?” He asked after some moments of silence. The snow was starting to pick up, it made this soft whispering sound as it brushed through the pines.

               Elora answered honestly, “I am so scared that I might make a mistake. That I might pick the wrong one. And there is no going back…” She pulled her knees up to her chest. It was getting colder. “What if I fail?” She felt a literal weight on her shoulders, it was heavy but warm- and the scent that engulfed her… it was a musky, balmy scent, of fresh cedar and balsam, soap, sweat, and old leather. It was a comforting scent. She immediately felt relieved in its warm enfolds Cullen had taken off his beloved furred cloak and draped it over her for warmth. “But you’ll be-“

              “I wont hear of it. Not when you’re wearing those silky robes. Honestly how do you expect to stay warm? And you’re not wearing any shoes! Your feet are just wrapped…or something….”

              “…I’m Dalish… barefoot… is kind of our thing.”

              “Point taken, but I will see to it that you at least have some comfortable boots…” he sat for a moment, watching the snow slowly cascade down, it was calming, peaceful. From where they sat in the forest, the Breach couldn’t be seen, all was forgotten for a moment. “It must feel like you’re shouldering this all by yourself. I hope you know that you can confide in me- uh- in us. You don’t have to bear it alone.”

              “Thank you, Cullen.”

               There was another quiet, content pause as the snow continued to fall.

               “….You want me to support recruiting the Templars.”

               “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

               She laughed and shook her head. He sneezed and she realized it was much too cold for them to linger any longer. “We should get back to Haven.”

               “Agreed, allow me to walk you back to your quarters?”

               “Certainly, Commander.” He offered her an arm and she gently looped hers through it.

 

               That morning as she stepped out, there were a pair of soft leather boots outside her door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is my favorite chapter so far C: I decided to go ahead and post it since 9 and 10 were so short. This one has a bit of violence in it, just giving a warning. After this one, im going to take a break from posting until i can get a few more chapters typed up C: hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!!

 

                Everything was put on hold for the moment when they got a missive that some of the Inquisition’s soldiers were being held for ransom- the price? The head of the Herald of Andraste.

                “This is preposterous!” Cullen paced about the room, the scroll laying in the middle of the war table. It was written in a heavy, archaic hand, square and rough, blunt and demanding. It belong to a son of a chief of a people called the Avvar. Elora knew little about them, Leliana and Josephine described them as almost barbaric.

                “And what is their issue with me exactly?” Elora sighed, collapsing into a chair. Josephing pressed a cup of tea in her hands. As if weighing on the Templars and Mages was not enough, now she had to worry about their precious soldiers being held against their will and mostly likely fearing for their lives. She had to save them as soon as possible, they were counting on her.

                “It is my understanding that the Avvar believe in spirits of nature- the forests, the rivers, and chiefly the Lady of the Sky. It seems that you claiming to be-“

                Elora held a hand up in her defense, “I never claimed to be a Herald of Andraste. I woke up. My hand glowed. And that was suddenly my title.”

                “Noted.” Leliana continued, “in any case, your label as the Herald of Andraste is an insult to their main deity. And they want to avenge her in battle, such are their ways of settling things.”

                “So you’re going to send her to battle this half-witted brute?” Cullen fumed. “it’s clear he’s some prat looking to make a name for himself, by challenging the Herald of Andraste.”

                “While that may be true, Commander, we can hardly ignore his missive.” Josephine sighed.

                “I have to save the troops, no matter what the cost.”

                “By attacking a fortress of Avvar?” Cullen scoffed. “These are not your common place, throw away bandits. They rely and pride themselves on brutish strength and battling!”

                “Are you worried the Herald wont be able to defeat the chief’s son?” Cassandra cocked an eyebrow. Elora, Josephine, Cassandra, and Leliana all turned a critical eye upon him. He felt their eyes bearing into him and backing him into a corner.

                “N-no… im sure she can handle herself.. it’s just that…” he fumbled

                “Then it’s settled. I will take Cassandra, Blackwall and Solas. We will go to the Fallow Mire, defeat this chief and free our missing soldiers.” Elora stood up, casting a heated glare at Cullen. “When I return we will discuss the Templars and Mages.”

                “Good. The sooner we approach one of them the better.” Leliana went back to study the war map and the other missives they have received. Elora left to go prepare her party for travel into the Fallow Mire. Josephine was scribbling replies and letters to noble and other dignitaries. Cullen was still stunned this had all gone done without him having a say so.

                “I cant believe you just sent her to the wolves again. Those Avvar are savages and fight like it too!” he huffed. “She haS not yet faced a foe like them. She wont know what she’s walking into.”

                Leliana and Josephine exchange a knowing stare. “You are quite right Commander, they are quite barbaric and… primal… to say the least. You know I read that they practice a custom called ‘Bride Stealing?’”

                “Maker, what on earth is that?” Cullen breathed, laying his hands on the war table and hanging his head.

                “It seems, to keep fresh blood in their clans, they ransack other villages or perhaps travelers and steal any eligible young maiden they can find… to take them back as their brides. It’s quite barbaric and but enthralling.” Josephine mused.

                Cullen very slowly raised his head, his eyebrows knotted together and his eyes black with a culminating rage.

                “Let us hope they do not fancy lovely elven maidens. Perhaps this chief’s son will want our dear Herald as a bride once he has a look at her.” Leliana joked. However Cullen started making a bee-line for the door. “Commander, where are you going?”

                “I am going with them. This is preposterous. Sending a young… lady… such as the Herald to-“

                “You’re staying here and training our troops. We will need them for when she returns and we face either the mages or templars.” Leliana warned.

                “But she-“

                “Commander, the Herald can handle herself.”

                “She is-“

                “Capable of dealing with it. Go bid her good luck, if you must.” Josephine laughed.

                Cullen glared at them both before tucking his tail and chasing after the Herald. He caught up with them as they were preparing to ride out. She was preparing Ivun for the ride ahead, and they had all donned heavy cloaks- the Fallow Mire seemed to live up to its name in Scout Harding’s reports. He reached behind his back and retrieved something as he approached her.

                "Here," Cullen handed her a large dagger, the weight was unfamiliar in her hands. 

                "What's this for, exactly?" She questioned as she secured it to the her belt.

                "Just humor me and keep it on you...." he grumbled, making sure it was tight in place.

                "Commander, I can shoot lightning out of my hands, you know."

                "I am fully aware of your talents."

                She sighed and shook her head, "fine, i'll wear it. But i dont think i'll have much need of it." She shrugged as she mounted Ivun.

 

***

 

                 He had tackled her at the base of the cold, stone steps, into a puddle. The frigid water saturating her leather armor and piercing her skin, the bitterly chilling rain still pummeling them. Blackwall was trying to pull him off of her, but the Avvar in all his rough skin armor was too heavy. Even battered as he was, he was still powerful and his strength and endurance unfathomable.  

                 "Herald!" Cassandra cried still fighting off some of the lackeys. Solas aiding her lest they be run over by Avvar. 

                 "Ive got you now, Lowlander..." The Avvar growled in his thick, deep voice, the weight of his body slowly crushing her. She could barely breathe, every breath was a battle. "You will die by my hands..." He sneered and his hand slowly snaked up her body to her throat, where he started squeezing. 

                 Elora fumbled, reached around her side and gripped the dagger Cullen had given her. She was too low on mana to summon a spell that would damage him enough to save herself. Her vision was going black as she unsheathed it. The Avvar hadn't noticed, he was blinded by his blood lust- Squeezing her throat tighter and tighter as Blackwall pummeled his back, trying to break his grip. His armor was impenetrable even with her strongest spells- but with him on top of her, so close, she noticed a weakness, right under his arm and along his side- it was loose so he could swing his massive war hammer without restriction. 

                 "Give my regards to the Lady of the Skies, 'Herald'" he laughed, seeing the life in her drain from her face.

                 With her last remaining strength, she plunged the dagger into the opening, and with her last bit of mana sent a bolt of lightning through the blade- both pierced into his chest and heart. He violently shook, and spasms racked through him. His screaming could be heard throughout the bog- she could see the violet bolts dancing rapidly in his gaping mouth- he then, limp, laid his head down on her chest. Dead. Parts of him still twitched and a sick smelling smoke peeled from his mouth. Blackwall finally rolled the body of the young Avvar off of her- she gasped for breath, her lungs burning.

                 "My Lady Elora, are you alright?!" he was on his knees beside her, helping her sit up as she still struggled for breath. "Solas!" he called for help.  
                 Cassandra finished off the last of the Avvar's guardsmen, both she and Solas ran to their aid. "Is she alright? Maker!" Cassandra gasped, the

                 Herald of Andraste had seen better days.

                 "I will do what i can. We have to get her back to Haven." Solas started trying to bind the gashes all over her.

                 "I-Im fine..." She wheezed, Blackwall and Cassandra helped her to stand, while Solas tried to heal her. "Where are the soldiers?" She then collapsed against Blackwall, 

                  They found a key on the dead Avvar and then heard shouting not far away. They found the soldiers held up in a cold, dank cell, but they were mostly unharmed. 

                 "The Herald came to save us!"

                 "Thank Andraste! Our prayers are ansered!"

                 "I knew she would come for us!"

                 "Im glad to see that you're all ok." She breathed with relief.

                 "Let's get back to Haven, then. We need to get treatment for the wounded." Cassandra suggested leading them out of the dilapidated stone fortress. 

                 "Im so glad they're safe..." Elora breathed before fainting into Blackwall's arm. 

 

***

 

                 Cullen heard the clanging of the bell and the joyful shouts of the soldiers, announcing the triumphant return of the rescue party. A smile crawled over his mouth. He finished up his letter and then left his tent, wanting to go welcome them as well. His smile faltered when he saw some soldiers rushing to fetch Adan, and shouts of "there's injured!" His throat went dry and he hurried to where they were dismounting.

                 "Cassandra, is everything-?"

                 "Quick, we must get her to the healers!" Cassandra barked, helping Blackwall with the Herald. 

                 "Im alright, Cassandra...I just need to rest" Elora said weakly.

                 "Quiet, you!" Cassandra bit back, trying to carry her.

                  Without a word Cullen gently slipped Elora from Cassandra's arm, her weight was nothing to him as he carried her quickly through the camp. 

                  "I can walk, Cullen. Honestly everyone is over reacting." She coughed. 

                  "That's because you havent seen yourself." He growled, furious that she was this bad off. The first sight of her and he almost lost control of himself. She was badly bruised all over, her armor slashed, a gash over her eye, and she was pale as death. He couldnt look at her after that. "Once you're better I need to know everything that happened."

                  "I got my ass kicked." 

                  Cullen sighed, "in more detail..."

                  He was almost to Adan's hut, he had prepared a cot for her and was already mixing poultices and preparing. 

                  "Here..." she weakly raised a bloodied hand, it was the dagger he had given her. The last couple of inches of the blade looked burned and were crusted with dried, black blood. "Thank you, Cullen... you saved my life..." As he carefully laid her down on the cot, while Adan had his back turned, she pressed a weak kiss to his jaw (the only place she could reach).

                  Cullen stared into her face, his eyes wide with confusion and his mouth parted, he was stunned and searching. She did her best to smile at him, her breathing getting worse. "Elora I-" he started

                  "Out of the way, Commander!" Adan practically shoved him out of the way of him and his assitant. "And shut the door behind you! I need to concentrate!"

                  "R-Right..." he stepped out and had the door slammed in his face. He reflected on the moment before, the light press to his jaw, it still tingled, and his heart hammered in his chest. The realization hit him and covered his reddening face with one hand. 'Maker... she could be dying and you're blushing like a school boy...'

                  "Commander!" Cassandra, Blackwall and a few others ran up to him. "How is she?"                

                   "Adan is seeing to her. I suppose we will have to wait and see... What happened out there?" he was suddenly angry.

                   "An ambush. The coward." Blackwall rumbled, clenching his fists. "He requested a one on one battle with her and then three more warriors and two archers appeared out of the rubble. It was a good thing we didnt let her go alone."

                  "The Avvar proved to be of a most formidable mettle." Solas added, "They were nearly resistant to magic and their armor and brute strength bore most physical blows."

                   "He had her pinned down," Blackwall snarled in disgust, "choking her. I couldnt get him off. He was three times her size, crushing her. She drove a dagger through a gap in the armor... and sent... a bolt of lighting through it. That bastard died a painful death. And he deserved it." Blackwall spat on the ground as if it was the smoldering body of the Avvar.

                   Cullen felt waves of unbridled rage and disgust tear through him. The thought of that barbarian pinning her to the ground beneath him... His blood was on fire with wrath. But it was somewhat satiated knowing that she had thwarted and killed him herself. It would be a while before his temper was cooled. Not until he saw her well. 

                   "And the troops were rescued?"

                   "Yes. All. Only a few injured, but nothing serious. They are more concerned for the Herald's injuries than their own."

                   "Right... You all should see to having a meal and some dry clothes." 

                  "With all due respect, Commander. Im not moving until I see that bonnie little face smiling, as it should be." Blackwall made himself comfortable on a tree stump. 

                    "I shall see if i can be of service to the injured soldiers." Solas bowed his head and took his leave.

                    "Alert me at once when she wakes! I need to inform Leliana." Cassandra hurried off, eager to return.

                    Cullen and Blackwall were alone, a fire just across from them keeping them warm. 

                    "Did he suffer?"  

                    "Aye, Commander. A grisly death."

                    "....Good." 

 

***

 

                    Elora finally stepped out of the cabin with the help of the healer, helping her walk. Adan had done his best- she had some cracked ribs, a few minor gashes and a lot of trauma and bruising. She would be terribly sore and achy for a while, but she was expected to make a full recovery, save the scar she would have over right eye. She was assigned to rest for the next few days. That was hard to do when you were the Herald of Andraste....

                    She was surprised when there were several people there waiting at the door. 

                    "Herald"

                    "Elora!"

                    "My Lady!"

                     "Stormy!"  she heard a cacophony of titles all at once. Cullen, Cassandra, Blackwall and Varric were all camped outside of the door. 

                      "Look at you lot." Adan laughed. "Worried little mother hens. She'll be just fine. Just needs some bed rest."

                      "Thank the Maker," Cullen and Cassandra both sighed together.

                      "I need a drink." .

                      "Im with you on that one." Varric clapped Blackwall's back. 

                      "Im glad you're alright, my lady." Blackwall placed a hand on her shoulder. "Next time, dont try to take him on by yourself."

                      "I think ive learned my lesson." She laughed, hurting herself a little. 

                      "We should let the Herald rest." Cassandra walked up to her, "Dont do that again."

                      "That's her way of saying 'Im glad you're ok, i was worried.'" Varric chuckled.

                      "I am." She tipped her chin up at him and went to inform Josephine and Leliana that the Herald would recover. Varric and Blackwall slipped away to the pub. 

                      "Allow me to escort her back to her cabin," Cullen offered, taking Elora's arm.

                      "I gave her a sleeping draught to help her rest, those ribs will smarting." Adan waved them off.

                      "You're sure you're alright?"

                      "Ive had worse." Elora scoffed.

                       "....Truly..?"

                       "....No." 

                       "I didnt think so." Cullen laughed. She started to stumble a bit. "Are you alright?"

                       "I think...so...everything is just... getting fuzzy..." her voice dragged a bit and she started leaning further into him. Without asking, he scooped her up in his arms again, as gently as he could. She was so small and weighed so little to him, it made him hate that Avvar even more… Her head drooped against the fur of his armor, a sleepy smile crawled over her face. “…Thank you….Cullen…” she whispered into the soft, warm furs.

                        “Rest well, Elora.” He replied to deaf ears, brushing her white hair aside as he laid her down on her bed and stoked her fire. He would send someone to check on her later, but for now he let her sleep. As he closed the door, he stole one last glance at her, she was peacefully sleeping with the blankets tucked up to her chin. Cullen vowed that as long as he lived she would never be hurt like that again.


End file.
